I always try to do my best. Looking back I can see where not always my best was my complete best but the best when considering all other things happening at the time. If I would have done less than my best at the time, I would have failed.
The year was 2003. I was in my second semester of Practical Nursing School. The best nursing school Arkansas has to offer. I was one in 30 of over 400 applicants chosen by way of test score. This practical nurse school has more clinical hours than any nurse program in the state including all degrees. A grueling 30 clinical hours per week, scrutinized by even your appearance.
The second semester is the start of clinicals. Three 10 hour clinical days and two days of classes per week. Test taken every class day. One of the classes taken was Geriatrics. It was a four-week class consisting of 4 exams, taught by the Director of the program. This semester started at a time when the 162 dollars a month income was crippling me. My electric and water had been shut off at the same time.
So me and my son went and stayed at the homeless shelter. I obtained full-time employment at a Nursing Home as a Certified Nursing Assistant. The pay-day fell to where I would work a month before getting enough pay to pay the electric bill. Employees were paid bi-weekly with one payday held back. Starting on the second week of the payperiod, brought the sum total of my first check to only like 50 dollars. Therefore, me and my son stayed a month in the homeless shelter. That, by the way, charges people 60 dollars a week to live there. It isn’t free like most people think. I worked night shift then. Then went straight to clinical from work.
In my geriatric class, I missed one class day because of a transportation issue. It happened to be a test day. I learned the hard way in nursing school, you can not make up a test. You get an 0 regardless of the reason you missed the test. Even if you are deathly ill, you are supposed to come to the college with a mask on and take the test on the day of the test. If not, you get F, no matter what.
In this nursing program, you can not make less than 75 percent in any class or you fail. Well, this made it near impossible for me considering there were only 4 exams; and I had zero on one. That meant I would have to make 100 percent on all the other test; in which, I had already made a 98 percent on one.
I was not stopping. I came too far to turn away. The professor gave an extra assignment to write a research paper on anything to do with geriatrics. This paper would count as 100 points like an extra test grade. If you choose not to do it, you only have the four grades.
The day before due, I moved back to home without the electricity being on two days before payday because my son witnessed first hand a man trying to kill another man. A man walked up in the mens dorm and went to beating another man with a 4 X 4. I decided my son and I could camp out for 2 days better than that shiz.
After college that day, I went to the library checked out three books. One of the books was about the normal aging brain. I think it was entitled something like The Greying of America. Anyways, I went home to no electricity. My neighbor on the other side of the duplex ran an extension cord to my side. I took a nap woke up then scanned over the books and chose the normal aging brain theme to write my paper. In fact, I titled my paper Normal Aging Brain.
I became sleepy because for some reason reading makes me sleepy. I went to sleep then woke up about 9pm. I wrote non-stop free writing my paper on the back of some old handouts. I was so poor at the time, I could not afford paper lol. I wrote five pages of small print non stop. I finished about 4 o’clock in the morning. My son and I then hurried for school for it was a must to arrive in time to type the paper before class started. The paper was due when class starts and late assignments were not accepted. I did just that. I am not a very fast typist either. I just typed it word for word like I had it written. No time for spell check. I barely finished in time for class.
Well in Geriatrics, I made one zero. My other test were A’s ranging between 95 to 99 percent. The professor gave me a 100 percent on the research paper. She even made the comment , ” I like your references and family details to make your points.” That was the first and only research paper I had ever written. I made a 76 percent in Geriatrics passing that class by one measly point. I was so happy. I felt like I could do anything after that. I cried though because that same class a class mate failed. For some odd reason, she did not do the research paper. I cried and cried because I could not even begin to phantom what kind of hard times would have made it impossible for her to do that.
Inside that research paper, I had written about my father, Grandmother, and Great Aunt Goldie and how old age is different to everyone. Also about memories; there are studies according to the book that the brain’s area for long-term memories increases instead of decreases as you age and also causes the older person to think more abstractly and get the point of literature and wisdom of things that a younger person can’t understand yet. Also it stated the short-term memory area shrinks and so it makes your elders just know things without remembering how or whatforth they know it lol. So when my mom says “just because I said so” She has the wisdom well above my years and just knows without remembering why.
Also this quote was in my paper from my Great Aunt Goldie ” make happy memories now, because when you are old memories are all you have left” . My Great Aunt Goldie was a retired licensed Pratical Nurse. She loved life. She continued her whole life doing her favorite things hunting, cooking with the pots on the table lol, she drove, talked on the phone 24/7 to friends, said words like poop, etc… in contrast her sister my Grandmother Ruby never drove in her life, had a business degree but never employed other than babysitting, always said things like putting pots on the table is trifling, and that’s not ladylike. It was like my Great Aunt Goldie had broken away from tradition in her generation.
Well my Great Aunt Goldie died during my nursing school my last semester. I was almost to the breaking point. I could not even miss 5 minutes of class or clinical or I would of failed. Only 3 days are allowed throughout the program. I had been up singing along to the song Send Me an Angel at midnight. The next day I randomly called my mom and she told me that my Great Aunt Goldie died at midnight the night before. I believe she is truly one of my angels. I could not attend the funeral. Not only because of not being able to miss the class time, I was also too poor for the gas to go; and when I thought about it, I know my Aunt definitely wanted me to pass nursing school.
Pine Bluff Commercial – Pine Bluff, AR
Goldie Stanley Lewis
One thing that saved me during the time of my abuse 1977 was Oparah. I was sexually penetrated by my father for a year once sometimes twice a day. Then found out caught red handed by my mother who did nothing but ask me what he did to me. At the time, I was scared to say anything because father had threatened to kill me if I told anyone. The time my father molested me he had just retired from the marines, then a four year call back overseas to vietnam. He spent 24 years in the marines. His latest rank was master seargent. Even a grown-up at the time my father threatened me would of believed it. If you have ever been threatened by a marine corp master sergeant, you might know what I am talking about. My father could give you a war face that could scare superman.
I did tell mom that he tried to make me suck his peter. In which at the time thought was the grossest part of the ordeal. My mom then spent one night on a pallet in my sister’s and mine bedroom. Then went back to a shared bed with my father the next day. My father never raped me again, but it did severe damage to my emotions.
Anyways, after school my parents were never home. I would always rush home and turn the television to Oparah. My brother left in charge never wanted the television until after his homework and studies. Whom ,by the way, never knew he was dyslexic until college after the marines. Those early shows of Oparah were all I had to assure me that my parents are sick.
Later about the age of 15 my father did apologize to me. He said he raped me because I was adopted and my sister whom is six months younger is not adopted. I was the favorite child for the most six months because my mom was pregnant at the time of my adoption with my sister whom was born on Valentine’s Day 1971. My birth certificate says my birthday is August 12, 1970. I truly believe my mom had that day altered in the court so us girls could be in separate grades. For my mom is an identical twin herself. My supposedly birthday just so happens to fall one week before the cut off to start kindergarten at age 5. The reason because my mom never had sex with him after my sister was born. I lived 17 years with this sick twisted family.
The day of my highschool graduation, my father threw me to the ground, kicked me and said get out of my house you lazy bum.
My father repented when I was 8. He never did the sexual abuse to me again. I always wonder if he hurt others instead. I carry guilt in my heart not knowing. Thinking that I never did enough to make sure he did not hurt someone else. All I can do now is give it to God like I do everything else in my life. God has answered so many of my prayers. I believe he will answer this one too. Father God please do not let my father on earth hurt another child, forgive him for what he did, heal him from the guilt he feels and please make the world a better place.
I have a victim letter stating he is guilty of penetration. In 2007, the abuse hot-line opened up an investigation that I never knew I could even do until I was trying to open an investigation for my son whom at the time was living with my parents.
I grew up with a sister six month younger than me. She was the miracle love child in my mom’s eyes. My parents were not supposed to be able to conceive according to the Doctor’s of that era. My mom had been married from the age of 25 and had just one natural-born son thus far. She had been to doctors to find out why she could not conceive. My dad was diagnosed with being low sperm count. My parents adopted a baby boy six years after the first-born. Six years later my mom mourned for specifically baby girl. They applied for specifically baby girl this time. Parents continued to try to conceive on their own because they had very little hope of being able to adopt a second baby.
Well the miracle happened and mom became pregnant. I never could understand why my mom that is so highly religious never had faith enough to believe God gave her the baby girl she desired. I say she is religious because upon graduation from highschool ; she hopped a train. Her dad was a train engineer. She went to California all the way from Arkansas to bible college. It was the only four-square church bible college I believe at that time. My mom has some kind of degree in bible theology. To me she was just religious, meaning a form of Godliness denying the power there of. I came to that conclusion because when I was pregnant myself I asked God for daughter with curly brown hair with curly eyelashes like her father and skin like a porcelain doll. I believed God would not give me anything less than the desire of my heart and he did exactly everything I asked for. My mom blatantly did not trust God to even give her a girl much less anything else. I presume that given the fact that she adopted me on the premise that she wanted to be certain she gets a girl. She adopted me at a time when she was pregnant and had even forgotten all about applying for the adoption. You may ask how do I know this? Because I have asked her about this so many times. When you are adopted you have an unsatiatable curiosity about where you came from and why and whatforths that carry you throughout life to always question your existence. I don’t know how else to explain it. I presume again that anyone who does not know their roots can concur what I am talking about.
Well I was the favorite baby girl for less than six months. I was already 2 weeks old when my parents brought me home from the hospital. The youngest picture my parents have of me is 2 months? I never understood that either. How can you bring a newborn home for the first time and not take a picture? I have questioned whether I was actually 2 months rather than 2 weeks old because of this fact. My mom was a pictureaholic in those days.
Its weird the way my adoption papers read. It’s like my birthday is not even correct. It’s a mystery from day one of my life. Well after my miracle love child sister was born February 14, 1971 my mom only felt obligated to keep me. You may ask why do I say this? Because as a teenager my mom repeatedly said to me, “ Lori Ann I am obligated to provide a roof over your head, clothes on your back, food in your stomach and when you turn 18 I am no longer obligated to do those things” To me I felt clearly unwanted by her. This is why I always asked her why she adopted me why?????????? Not only that I am of mixed race and she so clearly is racist it is so ironic. I look so different from any of my cousins they all have blond hair and blue eyes the shortest of any of them is like 5’9. I am 5’2” with hair so black children would make fun of me as a child and say my hair looked blue in the sunlight, with natural tanned skin, brown eyes so dark you can barely see my pupil. Seems like to me I was actually a last desperate ditch effort to obtain a baby girl by any means possible.
This is my story of how I came to be. I have dug deeper and am trying to discover how and what were the reasons I was given away by my birth-mom. I always used to dream of her rocking me in a rocking chair, singing sweetly to me, telling me my name and how much she loves me, in her hospital room, right after birth, right before; I was snatched away.
The name given to me is one of a kind. The meaning of the name Doreen is Gift from God. It sucks that my adopting mom gave me a name shared by who knows how many? Google Lori Schreiner and lots and lots of people show up, who are not even related. I even have a facebook friend Lori Ann Schreiner. She laughs too about having german last name and dark brown hair.
Google me, just me. Doreen Van Assen googled I am the only one. I used to google these names daily even before blogging or writing in search of clues to my birth family. This one little thing that my birth mom did, makes me feel so special, in her eyes, that I have never seen.
The next manic episode happened one year later. I was living in Corsicana, Texas as a travel nurse. My son was still at my parents. I would talk to my mom and she would ask me what I said to my son to make him cry. The only thing I would say was that I love you more than anything no matter where we are in the world. Asked him if he needed anything. He told me his shoes were too small. I told him I would send a package in the mail. I was worried that my parents were neglecting my sons needs and emotional abuse. I confided in a friend at work. Their advice was to call the abuse hotline. For some weird reason Texas won’t investigate Arkansas. Probably to do with politics and money. Anyway I became manic again not sleeping. This time I was delusional and having auditory hallucinations. It was like I was talking directly to God and he was talking back to me. God told me I did not have those parents anymore. That he was my dad now and he would take care of me. That he made me his direct descendant and my dna goes back to Adam and Eve. That the dna proves who I am. We also talked about Jesus that he was my brother. God has way more children than just Jesus. Jesus was the one that endured so much for everyone. Anyways I was basically just in our world. I went outside in a see through shirt with nothing on underneath I was talking to not only God but demons as well. The demons were trying to pull me down. I actually had bruises all up and down my legs. Well I finally went to sleep and had a nightmare about the end of the world. The dream was like a movie and no matter which way it was played backwards or forwards it was the same peace for thousands of years all that needed to happen was my parents be locked up. I woke up from my dream to my mom ringing my doorbell. I would not answer. Then cops came. I opened the door they grabbed me. Threw me on the ground shackled and cuffed me and took me to psychiatric hospital in Dallas. I have never ever talked about the hallucinations before. Anyways I was in hospital for two weeks diagnosed as psychotic episode. Both times in the hospital I was there on Halloween, and election day. At the end of this hospital stay, the scocial worker bought me a bus ticket back to Corsicana where I had left my car and all my things in my apartment. During this hospital stay I had put my mom on the list of names who could contact me at the hospital and I called her a couple of times while at the hospital. When I got to Corsicana the bus dropped me off and I walked to the police station and had an officer drive me the rest of the way to my apartment. What happened next was so awful. My apartment was empty and car stolen by my mom. She had taken all my things to Arkansas. I tried to get the officer to fill out a police report of grand theft auto. He would not do it. Then he calls my dad. Parents told the officer they would be there next day to get me. I cried and told the officer no way. I was hysterical again. I told the officer I wanted to go back to the hospital. He took me back to Dallas. I was seen in the ER and given a bus ticket for the day. The social worker discussed my arangements. I had a friend who lived in Dallas named Michelle. I used to work with her in dialysis in Arkansas. My mom had all my cell phones so I called her from the hospital and no answer. So I just left on a bus and went to the salvation army. I was going to get in touch with my mom and get Michelle’s number. She had just been promoted by Davita to train and hire acute dialysis nurses. She was the one that had already trained me and even though I did not have my RN liscense yet she had already told me she would hire me for 25$ an hour as an LPN. Next day my mom showed up at the homeless shelter. She had no clue what my plans were. But I decided to go back with her anyways so I could get my things and my car back. When I got to Arkansas my mom said I had an 8:00 bedtime. She was very mean and rude to me. I went and stayed at a friends house and got a job at the nursing home that I worked at when I was first married. My friend then kicked me out of her house stateing her husband did not want me there. It just so turned out that a girl at work knew someone with a rent trailor. I had one half of a paycheck. I rented the trailor for 250 a month. I had no furniture or electricity. My landlord hot wired me to the trailor across from me and lent me a little electric heater. I lived like that until I could pay the 750 deposit to have my electric turned on. My mom was nice to lend me a single sized blow up bed. Well since I was back in Arkansas I did the abuse hotline thing again for my son. That is when they opened up an investigation for me also. I pimped out that gheto trailor with the nicest bigest screen television, sleigh bed a dressor in which the mirror touched the roof. Big nice couch with nice round glass coffee table as tall as the couch. I was making a home for me in Arkansas. Two months later I recieved a victim letter stating Andrew Michael Schreiner was guilty of penetration and had so many days to put himself on the offender list. During that same time period I was digging into my biological background. I had been asking my mom for a copy of my adoption paper. She never would get it to me. So while I took the victim letter to Hot Springs, Arkansas for safe keeping it was on my mind to also obtain my adoption paper and store it with my other important documents. So I called my mom up and asked her nicely to give me a copy of my adoption paper. She stated she was in Monticello and did not know when she would be home. Monticello is like just 30 min from her house. So I said will you be home at bedtime? That I would meet her then. Well when I got to the house to get the adoption paper my dad met me at the door handed me the paper and knocked me down on the conqrete so hard I still walk with a limp to this day. I still dont understand why he did that. Well I became slightly manic again. I took the adoption paper to Hot Springs for safe keeping. My car ran out of gas. An officer asked me if I was on medication and I said yes. I had my medication with me in the car. The officer had my car impounded and took me to the hospital. There was a sign in the hospital stating services due upon seeing a physician….. so I asked the nurse since nothing was wrong with me and I had no money could I just leave before I saw a physician. She said yes so I left. I was on foot without a car in Hot Springs. I walked to a friends house and for some strange reason when I knocked on his door he called the police. I was taken to jail charged with tresspassing. I spent a week in the jail. Got out I was way manic again by this point I had no medicine all that time. I just walked and talked with God. He led me to a house I had never been to before. Turned out to be one of my Associate Degree Nurse classmates house. I stayed there over night and then went walking on foot again. I walked to the same house of my friend I was going to borrow his phone to call my employer to send me my paycheck so I could get my car depounded. Called the popo on me again. I went back to jail again for loitering. I stayed in jail for another week. When I got out this time Iwent back to the college classmates house. I was way manic. I went walking again this time I was like at a trailor park at the end of a gravel dirt road. There was this huge opening with a tree in the middle with a big hand made sign that said NO Tresspassing. I went and took the sign down and set it beside an old worn out camper and went inside. It was extremely cold cuz you guessed it it was like a few days before halloween. So I left out of the camper and walked to the one nice house in the neighborhood opened the chainlink fence made friends with the pit bull and rockwaller and knocked on the door. I asked the total stranger if I could please come inside out of the cold for just a minute. The man said no and I was walking back down the road. Cops came and asked me my name I so did not want to tell them my name that is on my birth certificate because I had just been to jail twice already on that name. So I said Doreen Van Assen. They took me to jail for using a false name. I was in jail for a week. I was told by the judge that I could use this name anytime I want from now on. This time my mom had come to the jail and signed to have a psychiatric evaluation and commited to the state hospital if possible. They sent me to rivendale in Little Rock from there I went to Jefferson Hospital in Pine Bluff. I was there for a week then extradited back to Hot Springs to court hearing over my being found sane not insane. She did all that like always without even talking to me. Everytime I have been hospitalized she has not once even bothered to ask my Doctor how I am the only plan of care she wanted for me each time is put away without a life. This was why I once told someone on facebook if I was to treat my own mom how she treated me. My mom would be in jail in a psych ward with the key thrown away never to be heard from again. With all her most favorite things taken away. Anyways I got out got my registered nurse liscense and went traveling. I had to get away. You see my mother is my trigger to the manic. I have had every psychiatrist tell me to stay away from her as much as possible. It is so hard sometimes when she hunts me down like a blood hound sometimes.
I have been through so much in my life starting out at being given away at birth. I have experienced four hospitalizations for mental illness. The first time age 22 for depression. The trigger was my mom. My husband was out-of-town working a construction job. My baby girl was one years old and I was in nursing school at the time. Well my daughter had chronic ear infections so her doctor prescribed cardac every time for when she got the allergy symptoms every time before the ear infection. The doctor told me to always watch out for a reaction to the cardac. I took my baby to her sitter she was cranky and not her usual. Carolyn always knew her as well as me because she took care of her from the time she was a newborn. When I got home from college to pick her up, Carolyn stated she gave her a dose of the cardac and some Tylenol. I went home, and about four hours later she ran a low temp. I gave her another dose of Tylenol and cardac. Less than 30 minutes later my baby woke up screaming. She was burning with fever. I took her temp it was 105 and the thermometer had still not beeped. I did not wait that long. I grabbed the diaper bag threw the medicine in the bag and took off walking. My baby was limp in my arms like a newborn and open mouth pant breathing. It was wintertime, and I just took off walking with her in just a onsey and diaper to the neighbor’s front door. I had no telephone at my house, no car, my husband was out-of-town. The neighbor did not answer the doorbell. I took off walking toward my mother in-laws house. Cars kept passing me by. Finally, the paper route lady stopped and drove me to my mother in-laws. When I got there, I took my baby’s temp it was 103.6 after putting her in a tepid bath and soaking her hair.
I called my mom from there because my mother in law does not have a car or a driver’s liscense for that matter. My mom said she would come get me after while. I called the hospital emergency room and explained my daughters symptoms. They told me to keep my baby cooled like I was doing. I was frantic. I called my sister-in-law whom had been to college for child care. She told me she would get her to the emergency room. I called my mom and told her what D said. My mom finally came. She was driving us to hospital with my daughter limp in my arms again like a rag doll. We were going the back route where mom usually speeds. This time she was going less than the speed limit of 40. I said,” mom can you please go a little faster?” She then slammed on her brakes and said,” I can go even slower”.
Needless to say, when we got to the hospital I was talking in word salad and could not stop crying. They admitted me to the psych ward. The psychiatrist subscribed me the medication Paxil after trying buspar that did not work for me. It caused my jaw to lock shut and tongue to swell up and I drooled. The psychiatrist said I was allergic to the buspar. The Paxil worked; I stopped crying finally. My diagnosis being childhood dissociation.
I am still not clear to what that means. But the basis of my problems emotionally stem from me being molested by my adoptive father at the age of seven everyday for a year of my life. My mom caught my dad and did not do anything about it although the molestation did stop after that. When I got out of the hospital, I took my dad with me to therapy. He admitted on taped interview everything I said was the truth. As a grown adult, I opened an abuse case against my father and have a victim letter stating he is guilty. My mom so whacked she denies everything and even tells me I am just imaging things.
During the second hospitalization, the psychiatrist diagnosed me with hypomania. This was October 2004 I had graduated LPN school was working in dialysis. I had not taken state boards yet. I was living in a new apartment paying for everything myself on 8 dollars an hour income. I came to hard times decision to either buy toilet paper and household supplies or be late with the rent. I chose the toilet paper because I had gone through so long on like one washing detergent per month and such going through nursing school.
I gave my landlord only half the rent so I could afford toilet paper and came home from work to my door being taken off its hinges with a note saying if you want your door back pay me my rent. My neighbor is witness to this door being off and also Neicy, the neighbor that I lived beside in nursing school. She was with me that day. I called the landlord. He came and I gave him all the money I had left and told him I would pay the rest that friday on payday.
Well when friday came he did not show up. I had a baby shower to attend. When I came home, there was another note saying do I need to take your door off again? So, I started moving putting my stuff in the car and moving it to my friend’s grandfather’s back house. I made the mistake of calling my mom and leaving a detailed budget on her answering machine because she would not answer the phone. My mom showed up at my house saying “get the behind me satan” I pushed her out the door and locked it. I did not need the extra stress.
The landlord then left an eviction letter on the door. I called up the landlord said I am not breaking the lease. You are the one breaking the lease. I will stay and pay you your money. He then said I could move without paying the lease. lol. Then my mom came and got me in her car. She was taking me to her house 90 miles out-of-town. Me telling her no I have to work next day. I was working in dialysis still in training.
When we get to a red light, I reached to open the door to get out. My sister in back seat caught the door. Parents pulled up in liquor store parking lot to buy coke while sister called paramedics to come get me. My mom told them I tried to jump out the van. The ambulance took me to the emergency room. The ER doctor stated that I could go home with someone staying with me. So my parents took me home and left my sister there. I was up all night packing. I woke her up to ask to use her cell phone to call my friend. She called the police on me. Then I went to jail. Because when the police got there, I slapped her when I realized she called the popo on me. I wanted to tell the cop to get her out of my house.
I stayed in jail until monday. They took me to the ER then to a psychiatric hospital. The same Monday papers were served to me with my mom having custody of my son. I slapped my sister in my own yard and went to jail for that. I was in the hospital for 2 weeks . My boss was so sweet she gave me my sick leave and vacation pay. I never missed a pay check. The psychiatrist made a diagnosis of hypomania. I was there two weeks because medicine does not agree with me.
Depakote broke me out in hives. Seraquel made my heart race and beat 150 bpm. Finally, trileptal worked. While I was manic, I did stress relieve things over and over like take 5 bubble baths a day, exercise, pray, eat more. I don’t know why but I felt like I was going to die like my heart was going to stop. After going to jail, while at the ER, my potassium was critical low, only 2.2. The diagnosis being hypokalemia of unknown etiology. I have always wondered why my potassium was so low?
Hypomania is like the world is spinning too fast to catch up. Anxiety, fear,stress motivate you to try to do the almost impossible. You feel like you will die if you don’t get it accomplished. It is a very hard thing to explain. you talk in word salad, because your thoughts are going to fast for your mouth to speak them. If you don’t clear your brain of those thoughts you lose total control of yourself. It’s like your body will actually start to shut down trying to survive the stress. I believe stress can kill you. I will write more on the next two hospitalizations later.
I am currently a Registered Dialysis Nurse. I enjoy saving lives. I have experience with acute and chronic. I am interested in a full-time position in management. Location preferably in a springtime climate but would consider any location.
May 15, 1988 to 1991 full-time nanny to niece and nephew- I loved this job the most of any job ever.
pay 70$ per week plus room and board.
1988 to 1989
Pine Bluff, AR
position: cashier, pay minimum wage 5.50 per hour, I enjoyed the job was only part-time they would work me only 30 hours per week and it was dangerous. Many rapes, murders stabbings happened in that parking lot. I would always have the officer guard on duty walk me to and from my car.
1988 to 1989
Mid South Adjustment Co. (collection agency)
position: Secretary, I was mainly in charge of the whiteout, changing the addresses on the millions of non-paid bills
I enjoyed this job also was only part-time though only 30 hours per week. Slightly dangerous outraged bill recipients would come up to the bullet proof window on occasion.
The Ray Clinic of Chiropratic
position: Chiropratic Assistant, front desk, scheduling, dictation, therapy, x-ray developer, painting, cleaning
This was my first full-time job ever I loved it except it was owned by my cousin. Never work for relatives they expect you to do everything for nothing in return. Pay was salary 142 dollars a week. Most weeks worked like 60 hours. Cousin even had me working when the office was closed and he was away at a seminar changing light bulbs and painting.
1989 to 1990
Senator Knox Nelson position Secretary, dictation,I went everywhere the Senator went to write down whatever he wanted written down. Some times did errands for one of his two companies Knox Nelson Oil Company or Arkansas Marketers. Errands included anything from picking up a 70,000 dollar check from a broker to getting paper to making coffee to taking his car to the car wash. This job ended when Senator Knox Nelson did not get re-elected.
1990 various jobs: Sonic Drive In, Furniture store that was going out of business for real, Telemarketer, JCPenny make up department, then finally Certified Nursing Assistant
1990 to 1993 Gardner’s Nursing Home
Star City, Ar
I loved this job. I found my calling. I knew from this job I was going to become a nurse. While working there I had my first child. I found out I was pregnant on my 21st birthday same day I received my acceptance of pell grant in the mail for college. I threw the pell grant in the trash and had my baby girl continued to work the job I loved. The next year I enrolled in Practical Nursing School. I married during spring break of that year. Two weeks after marriage husband lost job. I quit nursing school and the job that I loved and went to work at
1993 to 1998 Burlington Industries
position: inspector, I inspected scatter rugs for quality and prepared them for shipping, I also did the prestock. I was responsible in coordinating all departments to speed up making the rugs already sold.
pay:8.50 an hour most pay I ever made in my life up till then. Well husband never obtained job in five years. I supported my family. I asked hubby why no job? He stated that there was no day-care for the children at the hour he would have to be at work so I quit.
1998 to 1999 housewife, mother- the best job ever created
1999 to 2000 Pathology Associates
contracted to FDA National Center for Toxilogical Research
position: Lab Technician Trainee, performed necropsy on rats and mice and prepared them for histology, on the job training, this job was way cool. I quit because my family moved 100 miles away. I drove it for a few weeks but that got old quick.
housewife again for a short period then divorce and full-time mom and college student 2000 to 2004
2004 National Park Community College
Practical Nursing Certificate
2004 Oauchita Regional Dialysis Center the coolest job ever working with the most amazing people ever
2005 Gardendale Nursing Home while continuing to work dialysis on Saturdays while attending college full-time during summer semesters
2006 National Park Community College
Associate Degree of Nursing
2006 quit my dream job because it paid too little was only making 12 and hour to save a life so I went traveling making twice that amount
Way To Go, Unions – Nothing Like A Few Overpaid People To Keep Jobs From the Rest (via The Rantings of Vern Rigg Kaine)
Reposting from The Rantings of Vern Kain…. my coments under his post
This is a repost from The Rantings of Vern Kain.. my comments are under his post
Marriage is the binding together of two people until death or divorce. The marriage ceremony shows the world that you are committed to this person and also celebrates this union. It is one of the happiest days of your life. I am blessed to have been married once. I was married for nine years. He had come into my life at a time when I felt like I was damaged goods. I was 21 years old and a single mom. I felt so loved because he did things for me that no one ever in my life had. I was in LPN school living on my own in my own apartment working as a Certified Nursing Assistant. He was smart and fun to be with. He always made me smile. We made deams together and decided to marry. We married the friday of springbreak March 26th 1993. After the wedding ceromony, he no longer did any of those things and became mean, obsessive, lazy, and bad going to jail time and again. He never pursued any of the dreams we had made together. I really tried the hardest I could to stay married. I supported us finacially for six out of nine years of marriage with me giving my check to him to oversee the bills. He would spend the money on drugs and alcohol. I paid for him to go to drug rehab not once but twice. He just got worse staying out all night; me worrying praying for his safety. I still had love for him even though he was so bad. He had affairs no proof but a wife can just know especially since we had been together for nine years never apart sex everyday you just know. He never admitted to it. I still stayed unhappily married. Then one day he started telling me I was stupid because I had just misplaced the foodstamp card. I told him I was anything but stupid, and that the card was not lost just misplaced. Because I had not gone anywhere. How could I? He never left me any car at the house. In fact, I never drove hardly even when I was the only one working. Somehow he must of disagreed with me saying I was not stupid because he hit my face and knocked the glasses off so hard the nose piece came off. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I was not going to be verbally abused or physically abused in a marraige that is suppose to be happily ever after. I had enough of that as a child from my parents. So I prayed to God that he would make a way of escape. The next week on July 4th my husband got a ticket for DWI and suspended drivers license, and speeding. He was going 92 on the interstate with a case of beer. He went to a jail this time in Pine Bluff . He tried his usual lie to them of heart disease. This time the lie did not work for him to get out. I went and visited him at the jail, got his paycheck; and then found a rent house. My kids and I were moving by myself, and on the way to make a load husband was walking down the road. He had made a deal to be on house arrest. Well, he moved with us. He neglected to pay the regstration fee for the ankle bracelet. About two weeks later, he got another speeding ticket and back to jail he went. This time I got an order of protection from the circuit clerks office. Stayed at my sister-in -laws house and applied for subsidized housing in a little town Rison, Arkansas population 1200. This was the year 2001. 2002 are divorce final. I was a loving faithful wife for nine years.
Well the celebration part was the best part. I dream of a day I can marry my love Reg with a celebration that lasts forever.
These are some of the positive things about me…..
I do not drink alcohol. I love my children. They are my most precious blessings. I am very smart. I think I am very loved by God. Because he hears and answers my prayers. Even though I am Christian I usually pray directly to God. I am a very good nurse with lots of empathy for my patients. Blessed with intellectual brains to get me through college during very stressful times. I was one of 30 chosen out of 400 applicants for nursing school. The stress I have endured in my life makes my life as a nurse really easier than most because this job that is stressful to most is not that stressful to me. I seem able to make a stressful situation calmer. I move fast in life when necessary and slow down when things finish or like at a pause,for reasons like money, transportation, etc. I call this patience. It is truly a virtue that not many people have. Good things do come to those that wait. I am a mostly auditory learner. So listening and understanding come easy to me. I love music. . I am a fairly good clarinet player. I am beautiful on the inside. That beauty shines through to the world. I don’t argue with people. I usually compromise. Everyone has their own opinion however ridiculous it might seem to me. I don’t have to agree with it I have my own opinions.
I am to the point straight forward. Do not like to waste my time with losers, ( people who try to drain every thing from you without giving anything back ) I am successful because I am alive against bad odds. The devil must hate me. I see positive things in everyone. I model those positive qualities, Combine them and make them my own. I don’t want to repeat past mistakes so I try to see what happened in my past so I never go through that again. This way my future is brighter with less falling down. This is the reason history is a class. Although history was always the one class I never did very good at lol. I always liked to watch the current events. History in its present form to make my life better for my generation. The news, tmz, current events that are never talked about in school. I loved to talk to my Grandma Ruby when she was alive. She actually lived in the Great Depression. Had twins told the mid wife after they were born I will pay you 10 dollars instead of 5 dollars. Put the twins in a shoebox to keep them warm. Punched wholes in the shoe box lol so they would not suffocate. back to me. I have respect for my elders even though I was so badly abused. I know their life had to suck really bad to take that out on me. Some things they went through I don’t want to understand. To understand some things you have to live through it and I never want to live through whatever made my parents so weird.
Another good quality about me is I am determined. I finish what I start. Might be a little late, might be not as good as I planned, might be obstacles in the way but I always find a way to get through them. I have a childlike heart. I don’t like to learn the hard way. I like to read the directions and look stuff up in the dictionary when I don’t know. I love babies I know they understand way more than they tell you.
I believe life is what you make it. I am happy with myself no matter what anyone else thinks. Through troubled times I gain inner strength from thinking good things about myself. Like I told you about me staying in my room. I would always exercise. Listen to music, write my thoughts in a journal, fix my hair and makeup till I knew I was pretty in the mirror. Did not matter to me what my mom thought. She would say I”m ” ugly, stupid, liar, going to hell, crazy, lazy, good for nothing” I would say to my self in the mirror just the opposite. lmao as an adult I told her ” I’m rubber your glue whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you” As the mom, she is not the glue the role model to me. What ever mean things she says, I want them to bounce off me and stay on her. One of my long-term goals is to become a writer some day. I made an A on every college paper written. The only red mark was very good metaphor. I love to write.