Yesterday was bittersweet

July 1 is not an easy day for our family.  It marks an anniversary of the loss of one of our own.  It means another year has passed without her.

We are a small family on my mom's side.  My Mamaw has one brother, my great-uncle Frank.  My mom has one half-sister and one sister.  My aunt Tara has one son, Stewart, my aunt Kim has three children, Nikki, Grant and Ally, and my mom had three girls, me, Lindsay and Morgan.  My Papaw passed in 2001.

On July 1, 2007, a Sunday morning just like many other Sunday mornings, we were getting ready for church.  I do not remember what I was wearing but I remember where I was standing when I answered my cell phone.  I was at the top of the stairs in our very first home when my mom called, "Nikki has been in a car accident and we are on our way to the hospital."

Amazing how your world can be tilted on it's side in less than 20 words and 3.5 seconds.

Details were scarce.  No one knew much more by the time we made it to the hospital ourselves.

What we did know was that her accident was somewhere after 4:00 am.  Apparently, she had been out the night before, dancing the night away, happy and free.  She was on her way home and we are not sure what happened next.  What we knew is that her car had gone off the road to the right, then when back across the highway to the left, hit the guardrail and flipped over into the opposite lanes of traffic.  She was ejected during the flipping.

Someone passing by a few minutes later called in a car facing the wrong direction on the highway, not even seeing her.  When the ambulance arrived, she was taking merely three breaths a minute.  They rushed her to the hospital.

There was an unfortunate delay in her family being notified because of a technicality with paperwork and addresses not being changed after a recent move.

We were all gathered outside the trauma unit, huddled together in a small office barely big enough for a few chairs and a small table.  And it was there that we sat for two days.  Two long days of trying to figure out if our Nikki was going to make it.  Two long days of, "If we can just get her stable enough to move, we can find out if there is any brain activity at all." Two very long, very emotionally tiring, very exhausting, days.  Arguably the worst two days of our family's existence.

It was this final test, a perfusion scan, that would determine if she would remain on the ventilator or if Nikki's parents would have to make a decision I hope I never have to.

When the news was delivered, the doctor took my aunt and uncle into the tiny waiting room that had been our makeshift gathering place for over 48 hours.  In our heads, we all knew before they opened the door and in our hearts we had been preparing to say goodbye.

The traumatic loss of someone you love, I feel, is harder to accept.  That sudden ripping away of someone from you leaves a bigger, uglier scar.

Nikki's passing was an incredibly difficult time in our lives and we all have the scar to prove it.  However, a few positives did emerge- our family, although small, has been tight-knit since, and it was the experience with the nurses and staff that cemented my love for nursing.  The care and compassion the staff showed to us in our time of despair was overwhelming.  I wanted to be a part of that world.  I wanted to be there for someone else's family.

Yesterday marked the 7th anniversary of our loss, but Heaven's gain.

Until we see you again, sweet Nicole. 

Welcome to adulthood.

It has been such a stinkin' long time since I have posted anything! So much has happened in our lives;    Brayden's first birthday, last days of school, the beginning of summer, my birthday.  We moved a little over a month ago and that has taken up a majority of our time; unpacking, organizing, cleaning, both working full-time.

The move was successful in that we had some awesome people show up and help us unload the truck in about an 1/8 of the time it took the two of us to load it.  We have slowly been unpacking but we are functional and that is what matters! Right?!

On a different note, I would like to announce that we have been able to pay off all but $13,000 of our debt!! Working extra, selling our house, doing the commercial, all have helped us get to where we are.

We were so blessed to have done the commercial and every dime we make we have dedicated toward paying off our Honda Pilot, our last bit of debt besides the mortgage.

In a conversation with my mom about it, she said something that got me, "Welcome to adulthood."

And it is so true.

What we were discussing specifically was not spending the money made from the commercial.  There are SO many other things we would love to do with it: a fun vacation, new furniture (because everything we own has been with us since the beginning and it is all either hand-me-down, bought for cheap because that was all we could afford, or free and I am SO ready for grown-up furniture), new floors, new shoes for work, new appliances, new clothes, a new pressure washer/toys for Aaron, I mean the list could go on and on.

I can not wait to be able to spend our money on something different!  I think Abi has asked me about five times, "When we get debt free, can we have a day where we just go shopping for new clothes? We can leave Bray at home with daddy and just have a girl's day, right?"  And I want that for her.

However, this situation has presented such a teaching opportunity.  She is seeing how important it is to be win with money.  She is learning to budget her own earned money and save for what she wants.  As much as I want to spoil her, preparing her for real life is more of a priority.  

And for now, budgeting and erasing our debt is more important.

But I am really proud of us!  Everything has gone to the Pilot, and will continue to until that last penny of debt is erased.

Being an "adult" means being smart with your money.  Being an "adult" means being able to deny self and instant gratification.  Being an "adult" means planning ahead and saving for something instead of impulsively buying it on a whim, but praying we make it until the next pay day.  That is what being "adults" means to us.

So, adulthood, here we come!!

What goes on in my head

Hello again friends! Things have been a little crazy around here for the last couple of weeks, but I promise I will get back to it soon. Not that anyone was wondering, or that anything I say is that important, but I guess it makes me feel useful if all my rambling is read by someone, or something I have said impacts someone in particular, or if God has used me in any way to reach/touch someone else's life through my sharing. 

All that to say, I have missed my one-way dialogue! 

So, I received a massage from my loving Mamaw last year for my birthday. I had a one month old at home and I was so excited to use the gift card. Needless to say, since there is just sooooo much extra time after you have a baby, I still had not used it and it is May. It expires in June.  So this past week I was finally able to use it! 

Only, I lost it. 

With the move and all, I remember putting it in a safe place so it would not get lost. Except, it is a little too safe because I have no idea where it is. And believe me, I have searched. So much so that if I had actually unpacked all the boxes I went through, we would be completely unpacked. But, I digress. It is in the house somewhere. 

Enter loving dad who came to the rescue and bought me another one for my birthday! 

So, there I am, laying on the table, receiving a massage that has relaxed me and my mind and I am almost asleep. 

And then begins the transition from upper body to lower body. As she pulls back the blanket to uncover my left leg, my mind immediately perks up. 

And this is how I know I have been married to Aaron for a while. 

I cannot help but think, "I wonder if anyone has ever 'dutch-ovened' a massage therapist. They are moving right along, pull back the covers and BAM, a wall of stink hits them in the face." 

And then I think, "oh my, am I seriously laying here, in the midst of relaxation, thinking about farts?!" 

At this point, any ability to clear my mind and really take advantage of the alone, quiet time, has deserted me. 

Good try, Krista. Maybe next time. 

Have a wonderful weekend my friends!! Many blessings (and no Dutch ovens!)  

The little man that broke my heart

In honor of National Nurses Week, I feel compelled to share a story that I have not been wanting to really share, for the simple fact that it rocked my core.  The interaction and relationship built with one little man, and the eventual traumatic end. 

As I have said before, most of my shifts are done three in a row. Two Mondays ago was no exception. I was nearing the end of my third shift when the nurses aid called to me to help her change one of our patients that had soiled himself. By the time we got there, he was unresponsive. 

Finding a patient in this state is always hard.  Our instincts kick in and we immediately act.

I yelled for help from the other nurses around me. I was desperately trying to feel for a pulse, to no avail. I rolled him on his side and someone put the backboard under him.  I started compressions, pressing into his chest, counting aloud as I went. 

After the first round of compressions, someone else took over. As the patients nurse, it is your job to report to the emergency code team what was going on, who the patient was, his history, what happened leading up to this event, lab values, vital signs prior, etc. 

The report to the code team went something like this:

 

43-year old male. History of mild mental retardation, poorly controlled diabetes, cystic masses found at the esophageal-gastric junction, originally admitted from a nursing facility for low blood sugar and unresponsiveness. En route to the hospital he suffered a PEA arrest (electrical conduction in the heart but no actual pulse). Upon arrival he was intubated and code cool protocol was initiated (a method of cooling the body in order to slow brain metabolism in hopes of preserving brain and cardiac function). He came out of ICU to our floor after successful re-warming and extubation. He had persistent and growing pleural effusions (fluid in the lining of the lung) on both sides, but had been tapped that afternoon and almost a liter was removed off the left.  He was being worked up for possible malignancy as several necrotic tissue masses were found in his left upper chest tissue. 

After almost twenty minutes of coding him, he finally had a pulse. He was intubated and we took him to ICU, where he coded again. After almost 30 minutes of coding him, it was called and time of death was announced at 7:02 pm. 

I stood at the foot of his bed, after witnessing and participating in the trauma that is coding a patient, staring at his lifeless body, replaying in my mind all of the time I got to spend with him in his last days. 

I cried pushing the bed from ICU back to my unit. 

I cried walking out to my car, leaving almost two hours late to finish up paperwork and charting. 

I cried the whole way home. 

You see, what that report, and the handwritten "code blue sheet" that gets filled out after each code or the "discharge" summary after a patient passes, what they all had missing were all the moments in between.  What they failed to capture were the real time events, the most important details. 

He was regaining orientation and able to converse better. He was still very simple, almost childlike and I honestly felt maternal caring for him. He was making jokes and eating. He was beginning to understand the severity of what was happening to his body and the picture of poor prognosis the doctors were painting. 

Those factual occurrences missed out on the three days I spent with him, feeding him, talking with him, bathing him, helping him stand and get to a chair.  

On my second day with him, right before I was supposed to give report to the oncoming night nurse, I went in to check on him and he seemed sad. 

"What's wrong, my friend," I asked. 

Tears began to fill his eyes.  He had a hard time forming words and would stutter at times, so he was having difficulties. 

"I...I...I...I'm worried."

I was standing to his left and immwdiately knelt down beside the bed so that we were face to face. Something inside me took over and before I knew it, I said, "My friend, we serve a big God. He knows what is going on with you and He loves you. He is in control and He knows you need Him."

"I hope so," he stammered. He closed his eyes and a few giant tears rolled down his cheeks. 

"I know you are worried, and God knows you are worried. I am going to pray that He gives you comfort and peace tonight. I pray that you will feel His presence and His big arms around you."

All he could say was, "Thank you."

I will never forget those precious moments with him. I will forever picture his face in my head, closing his eyes to fight back tears. He was worried about the procedure he was undergoing the next day, the one that would precede his death.  

I will never forget holding his hand before I left for home the second night. I will never forget praying for him. I will always wonder if it was enough, if my words were the right words to impact a simple mans life. I will always wonder if I will see him again in Heaven. 

The written, summarized facts and lab values and report sheets and vital signs do not accurately depict the relationships built. They do not adequately capture the bond between nurse and patient.  They do not reflect the mark our patients make on our lives, or the trauma to our psyche that occurs when one of our patients passes. 

Rest in peace, my sweet little man, until we meet again.  

Infant no more: happiest of 1st birthdays!

At this time a year ago, it was a Sunday morning somewhere around 10:00, I was finishing up my chocolate chip pancakes.  Aaron, Abi, my dad and I were eating breakfast at the Original Pancake House off Kings. After getting up at 6:00 am in order to make it to Greenville, SC, for the second day of a two-day soccer tournament, the weather was on our side and it was cancelled that morning due to rain.  However, they did not make that call until after we had gotten up early, gotten ready, picked up my dad on the way, and were headed down the highway.

Mom, Mamaw and Me

Saturday, the day before, spent in the rain, freezing and completely uncomfortable!

Dad and Abi

Sunday morning, before we got the "cancel" call. 

Nevertheless, Aaron looked at me and said, "What do you want to do?" "Chocolate chip pancakes!" was all I could think of and I had a feeling that was going to be one of my last meals, so I had better make it count.  You see, Saturday was not a good day for me.  I was uncomfortable, I mean being nine months pregnant you are uncomfortable anyway but this was different. My back was achy, I could not find a good position.  At one point, under the umbrella on the soccer side lines, Mamaw looked at me and asked if I was alright.  I assured her I was fine but I knew we were getting very close. 

So, we turned around and headed to the Original Pancake House, which has the most fantastic chocolate chip pancakes ever.  No syrup needed, just a lovely portion of whipped cream on top.  Ordinarily I could have eaten the whole stack and not think twice, but I was hurting.  

I had been having Braxton-Hicks contractions my entire pregnancy.  You can ask anyone I work with, how many times they saw my big belly turn into a hard basketball.  So, sitting in the booth at breakfast I would just breathe through them, I was used to these.  I did not think that I was "in labor" yet because none of my contractions were regular and the length of time in-between did not shorten.

We got home and I tried to lay down, I was exhausted already after being up early two days in a row and going to bed late the night before.  That did not happen.  No matter which position I was in, I could not rest.  I knew this was it.  Standing up and having to brace myself on the back of the couch to breathe through the contractions, yeah that was a good sign.  So, I did what every normal woman would do, I jumped in the shower to shave my legs! And of course, I had to fix my hair!  I was NOT going to be in labor, for all to see, with hairy legs and bad hair. 

Around 5:30 pm we loaded into the car and headed to the hospital, me on the phone with my doctor's office.  Being Sunday, I got the answering service.  The conversation that ensued was quite comical.

RN: "Ok, so how far apart are your contractions?"

Me: "They are at least every four to five minutes, but they are not regular.  My contractions were not regular with my first child either."

RN: "Ok, but would you say they are four OR five minutes apart?"

Me: "I don't know, I've been on the phone with you now for almost ten minutes and I have already had two."

RN: "Ok, but are they four OR five minutes apart??"

Me: "I do not know! We are pulling up to the hospital now.  I was just calling to make sure the midwife knew I was coming."

RN: "Ok, well, someone from our office should call you back within ten minutes.  If you do not receive a call back, feel free to call us back again."

Me: "Ummmm, I am literally at the hospital door.  You are telling me you want for me to sit and wait outside in the car until someone calls me back?"

RN: "Yes, you should receive a call back within ten minutes. If you do not, call us back."

I got off the phone and looked at Aaron, who had only heard my side of the conversation, and was sitting with the most puzzled look on his face.  "So, I guess we wait?" he asked.  It was not two minutes later that the midwife called.  When I told her we were outside in the car, she laughed, "Why on earth are you still outside?!"  And inside we went. 

We wanted one more picture of the belly.  This was in the car, after my bizarre conversation with the answering service, before heading in. 

After being checked in, before being taken to our room.  Last picture as a family of three (notice my hair looks wonderful!)!

So ready to meet our little Brayden boy!

When we got to the hospital and settled down a bit, around 6:30 pm, I was checked and was six cm and 100% effaced.  It was time to get this party started.  Paperwork done, epidural in place, I was resting a little more comfortably.  An hour and a half later I was eight centimeters.  Another hour and a half after that and I was feeling the urge to push.  I was exhausted already and still had not done the hard work yet.  I pushed for about thirty minutes and it was all I could do.  My positioning was not right, his positioning was not right, I was not effectively pushing.  I remember the last big push I could hear my mom to my right, whispering, "You can do this, Lord, give her the strength, she is tired Lord, help her." 

And then he was out.  

And then I saw my perfect baby boy. 

And then he cried. 

The whole world falls away when you see your baby.  Nothing else matters. 

And he was perfect.  

Brayden Baker Wilson, 7 lbs 5 oz and 19 inches long.  

Abi seeing her baby brother for the first time. 

The situations going on between Aaron and I melted away after his birth, not completely, but they were insignificant in comparison to the miracle of life.  We spent more time as a family during my maternity leave than I think we had in probably the two full years prior. 

Our Brayden, our little cinco de mayo baby boy, was finally here.  I love his birth story.  

A wonderful friend of mine explained the concept of a "rainbow baby" after he was born.  You see, after a storm (a pregnancy loss), a rainbow will emerge, as a symbol of hope and promise that there are beautiful days ahead.  A baby born after a miscarriage is termed a rainbow baby.  Brayden was our rainbow.  Our storm was not only the loss of a child, but the entire year and a half that followed, where our marriage almost self-destructed. 

But God showed us His love and mercy.  He gave us a rainbow, fulfilled his promises to never leave us or forsake us as His children.    

The past year has been full of love, fun, excitement and countless memories.  Brayden is an undeniable blessing and our lives without him would be incomplete.

He must have known mama needed a little loving today.  While rocking him before laying him down for his nap, just like every other time, he actually fell asleep, which he NEVER does.  So, we were able to cuddle, me rubbing his almost-bald head, tearing up, and him drooling down my chest. 

Happy birthday, my sweet little man.  

Celebrate the small victories

For anyone who has read this blog from the beginning, or knows us personally, you know we are on a mission.

Six months ago we were frustrated, at a loss with our finances.  We were living paycheck to paycheck, with a maxed out credit card, monthly payments that equaled our income and making no progress on our debt.  We were working hard for our paychecks, with little to nothing to show for it except paying those we owed for nice things.

That is when a dear friend told us about, and bought and shipped, Dave Ramsey's "Total Money Makeover".  And that is what got this ball rolling.

We did not have an enormous amount of debt, just too much for us.  Neither of us have school loans, thankfully, because from what I hear those can be crippling.  At the time we started, we had $180,000 left on our mortgage, $30,000 on a loan for our Honda Pilot, $12,600 on a maxed out credit card, over $10,000 in a jet ski, a $5,000 loan from Aaron's 401k, over $4,000 in medical and miscellaneous debt, a $500 loan from my 401k, and $400 on a Kohl's card.

Compared to some, this may not seem like a lot, but for us, the mountain was too steep to climb.  We both make around the same amount, and get paid on the same day, on a bi-weekly schedule.  Friday payday was fabulous but by the next payday two weeks later, we were getting down to cents, not dollars, in our bank account.  We felt like we were spinning our wheels, going nowhere and with nothing to show for it.

Dave Ramsey, if you have never heard of him, is amazing.  He takes these simple principles and applies them to your finances in order to help you win with your money.  The first and hardest step in this process for us was to look in the mirror.  WE were the reason we were failing at the financial game. WE got ourselves into this mess; no raise, no bonus, no new job, no magical lottery win was going to fix it.  Now what were WE going to do to get us out of it.

Tithing
It is something I had been taught since I was old enough to earn an allowance.  Giving the first tenth, the first-fruits of your income, is a Biblical principle.  Through tithing we honor God, give thanks for His blessings on our lives and are showing Him how much we love Him by putting Him first.  Tithing is not something that Aaron and I did on a consistent basis, but now we do.  That amount comes FIRST.  Not, if you have anything left over after bills and spending money, you will give it when you go to church next.  It is amazing how the simple act of giving to God has opened so many doors for us, so many unexpected blessings.  I mean, who lands a commercial without an agent, without a headshot, without acting classes or experience, without an audition.  We could not care less if it ever makes it television, God blessed us and we were able to bless Him and pay off a little more of our mounting debt.

The B word: budget
We kept telling ourselves throughout the years that we needed to start budgeting our money.  Yeah, yeah, we can do that next month.  Making ourselves sit down before each pay period and telling our money where to go seems easy, but it is not.  Breaking away from spending habits, the "Well, I have it in the bank so I can stop by Chick-fil-a and eat" mentality is difficult!  Sticking with the budget, if you have allotted $200 for two weeks at the grocery store and you spend $150 the first week, you have blown it already! If you have set aside $150 in gas money for the next two weeks and you have to fill up in the first weekend because you have done too much running around, it means you have to hang out at the house for the next ten days until pay day again.  We can look up our paycheck amounts on Wednesday before getting paid on Friday.  Each week we sit down, write it all out and tell our money where to go.  We are controlling it, instead of letting it control us.

This is an example of our written budgets:

Sacrificing the immediate gratification, being firm with yourself and having some self-control is hard when you are used to using that debit card any time you want.

Cash in your envelope
Cash is king in Dave Ramsey's mind, and he is right.  Each time we get paid on Friday, we schedule the bills we pay online to come out that day.  Then, I go to the bank, pull out all the cash we have budgeted and split it up into envelopes, each one labeled with the money's destination; groceries, gas, eating out, etc.  You have an emotional attachment to your cash and it is much harder to hand over $40 for a new dress when you have only $60 in the clothing budget than it is to swipe the debit card and think nothing of it until you have four days until payday and there is $7 in the bank.

So, for those who are interested, here is our Total Money Makeover update:

We have $1,000 in an emergency fund that we HAVE NOT TOUCHED for SIX MONTHS!

April 17, marked six months since we have used the credit card and cut it up.  Unfortunately, the balance has not decreased dramatically because most of the monthly payment goes to interest, but it is moving slowly and for the first time in at least four years, the balance is under $12,000!

My husband, Aaron, sold his prize possession, his favorite toy ever, his jet ski.  Mark another $10,000 paid off!

We have paid off ALL medical debt, over $4,000!

The Kohl's card is no more, and along with it the $400 balance!

Currently, our home is under contract, with a closing date of May 14.  With the sale of the home we have budgeted paying off the credit card, both 401k loans, and putting a large amount on the Pilot, exact amount to be determined at closing, as we are closing on another home the same day.

As of today, we have paid off almost $16,000 in debt, and that number continues to climb.  We have stuck to a budget for six months and have not put a dime on the credit card for SIX months.

We still have a ways to go, but we are determined to make it on Dave Ramsey's radio show and do the "Debt Free Scream" one day very soon.

In life, it is not always the huge battles won, but the small victories that give you the courage to keep pressing forward.  It is only with God's help, His continued blessings and His hand on our lives that we have been able to make it this far (and have not strangled each other in the process)!!

The little things

On average, Aaron and I spend about two hours a day together, sometimes three but that is pushing it.  We do not get the weekend together. We do not get a day off together at all actually. BUT my schedule at workforce switched around this week and I had today off, a Sunday. 

I do not think I have been able to see any of Abi's soccer games this season because of my schedule. But our life right now dictates my work days. However, they were in an elimination tournament this weekend and won both games yesterday, so they played again today. And then they won the first game and played again!

Not only did Aaron and I get to go to dinner with the other soccer families last night, get to wake up together this morning (AT THE SAME TIME), make a big breakfast, AND spent the whole day together as a family, but I also got to see two soccer games, watch my girl score and make some awesome plays, and got to see her take home a medal. 

I have worked every weekend since I went back to work from maternity leave, last July.  

When you do not get this quality time, you make every second count. And boy did we have an amazing day. 

I tell you, it is the little things in life we take for granted. It is the little things in life that are worth the most!

Because....

The last few posts have been about chronicling the many struggles Aaron and I have faced in our marriage, after finally ripping open the curtains and letting the truth shine the brightest light on everything.  Let me lay it all out for you:

I was unfaithful.
Aaron was unfaithful.
I selfishly abandoned my responsibilities as a wife and mother, chasing after something that would "make me happy" and only found heartache.
Aaron battled addiction.
I forgot my core values, those instilled in me since birth, those that make me who I am.
Aaron pretended I did not exist and treated me like dirt.
I ran from God, ashamed of what I had become.
Aaron failed to be the spiritual leader God had ordained him to be.
I did not freely give respect to Aaron.
Aaron did not fully love me. 

WE gave up on each other.
WE did not fight for each other.
WE failed God and each other.

That list does not even take into account all the other drama, fights, hurt feelings, slammed doors, tears, nightmares, doubts, nights spent sleeping as far apart from each other as possible, loneliness, fear.  Simply put, that list is only words, our lives were miserable for quite some time.

However, we have spent the last two years desperately trying to crawl our way back to each other.  It is only through God's grace and mercy that we did not self-destruct and our marriage implode on itself with nothing left to salvage.  Actually, that is probably exactly what happened.  "We are free to choose, but we are not free from the consequences of those choices."  We have dealt with the backlash from each misguided choice we have ever made.

Standing here, two years later, I can honestly say I never thought we would still be together, and happy!  Now, of course the scars are still there.  And of course we are still dealing with our failures concerning each other, but my God is bigger than anything we can throw at Him.  My God has shown us favor, even in the midst of our self-made storms.  My God has changed me in ways I cannot begin to describe to you.  My God has shown me that the only true happiness comes from daily relationship with Him.

And that is why I smile.  That is why you cannot break my mood.  That is why I'm happy.  Because we have been to the other side, the dark side.  We have been and we are walking hand-in-hand back through it.  We have each other back.

A cardiologist that I work with once asked me, "Why are you smiling? It's Saturday and you are here (the hospital, working)."

And this is all I could think to say:

Because I'm happy!

The way these people are dancing, that is how I feel like dancing every day.  I value each moment in my life, because not too long ago I almost gave up these moments.  Not too long ago I would have walked away and not been given the chance to make these memories. 

Psalm 34: 1-7

I will bless the Lord at all times, His praise shall continually be in my mouth. My soul shall make its boast in the Lord;

The humble shall hear of it and be glad, oh, magnify the Lord with me,

And let us exalt His name together.

I sought the Lord and He heard me and delivered me from all my fears.

The looked to Him and were radiant, and their faces were not ashamed.

This poor man cried out, and the Lord heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles.

The angel of the Lord encamps all around those who fear Him, and delivers them.

So, please excuse my happiness, but I have too much to be thankful for not to be!

Just another RN Monday

I have written before, I was specifically made by my Creator to be a nurse.  I love what I do.  I find joy in it.  In my very short nursing career I have had some amazing experiences.

I work my shifts back-to-back.  Three 12-hour shifts, Saturday through Monday.  This type of schedules has it's perks and also it's disadvantages.  Out the door at 6 am and not home until after 8 pm, usually.  Long days, short nights, little sleep and then back to do it all again.  But I get to see my patients three days in a row.  I get to build a relationship with them.  They get the continuity of care that most patients find comforting.  I get to know them; their quirks, their special requests, their personalities, their favorite breakfast, the way they like their pillow or the way they prefer to take their medicines.  I get to know their families, and sometimes sadly, they have no one and I am the only person they see for three days (besides other nursing staff).

Today was no exception.  My third day in a row, with a fabulous group of patients.  However, after getting report from the night shift nurse, one of these patients went from having a heart rate of over 100 beats a minute to less than 30, causing us to run into the room.  The patient was slumped over in bed, with the nursing assistant at his side.  His face was grey and he was not breathing.  We sprung into action; calling his name, pinching, rubbing, straightening, desperately searching for a pulse.  To no avail.  He was a DNR, meaning in the event that something happened to him, there were to be no extraordinary measures taken.  So we stood and watched our sweet patient pass.

This was an unexpected passing.  Although chronically ill with multiple health issues, he was not near end of life, yet.  We see these types of patients often and he did not seem to be so close to passing.

As nurses, we also share the responsibility of calling family in when a patient has a change in status, or has passed.  Today, I was responsible for notifying his only daughter that she needed to come to the hospital as soon as possible.  When she came up to the unit, we sat in the waiting room together.  With the attending doctor, we explained what had happened, giving my account of his last moments.

After a few moments of tears, she said something completely amazing, "You know, he told me yesterday, 'Don't be surprised if I pass'. And I believed him, I knew this was going to happen."

Her father knew that his health was rapidly declining.  He was an independent, energetic, sweet and humorous man.  He knew he did not want to be dependent on others for his care.  I firmly believe he decided it was time, and the Lord granted his wish to come home.  He died with dignity and at peace.

So, today, on my third day in a row, weary and worn out, I bore witness to a soul being taken home, where his wife would have been waiting to greet him on the other side.  I got to hold a grieving daughter, afraid to be the first to let go.  I got to sit and hear stories of a man I only knew for a brief moment.  I got to help her pack his things and hold her hand when she could not finish.  I got to be the emotional rock of a fragile woman who had just lost the last surviving member of her family.  I got to quietly sob in the shower after work because the weight of being strong for someone else hit me finally.

_______

So often, just as in any job I suppose, it is easy get wrapped up in the tasks of the day.  I am the first one to admit that we tend lose focus on why we really do what we do.

Today I was reminded about what makes the nursing field special.

Today I was reminded about why I chose this career path.

Today I remembered what made me want to be a nurse.

Today I was reminded of how short life is and how important it is to live every single day just as it could be your last.  You never know when saying goodbye to someone, if that will be the last time you speak.

Love on your family, friends and those you come into contact with every day.  Kiss your significant other, hug your children, tell everyone in your life how important they are to you.

A Nurse's Prayer

Almighty God,

divine Healer of all,

grant me, your handmaiden,

strength and courage in my calling.

Give to my heart compassion and understanding.

Give to my hands skill and tenderness.

Give to my mind knowledge and wisdom.

Especially, dear Lord, 

help me always to remember the true purpose of my vocation,

that of selfless service and dedication 

to the weak and despairing in body and spirit.

"But...God"

Possibly two of the most powerful words in the Bible, in my opinion.

I was studying this morning and came upon the book of Titus.  A tiny little book of the Bible, so short, so quick to pass over when flipping the pages.  But Titus 3 hit me, as some verses do, especially hard today.

1 Remind them to be subject to rulers and authorities, to obey, to be ready for every good work, 2 to speak evil of no one, to be peaceable, gentle, showing all humility to all men. 

A friendly reminder of how those who all themselves Christians should act.  It is so easy to gossip.  We women find it especially easy to get amongst friends and gab. "Oh, girl, let me tell you what she did the other day..."  God has called me to rise above.  To be an example to others and let his light shine through me.  

3 For we ourselves were also once foolish, disobedient, deceived, serving various lusts and pleasures, living in malice and envy, hateful and hating one another.

Do we not remember what despicable human beings we are, so easily swayed by the sins of the world?   We are dust of the earth, not fit to sit at the table with the King.

4 BUT (and this is my favorite part) when the kindness and the love of God our Savior toward men appeared, 5 NOT BY WORKS OF RIGHTEOUSNESS WHICH WE HAVE DONE, BUT ACCORDING TO HIS MERCY HE SAVED US through the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Spirit 6 whom He poured out on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Savior, 

At this point, my heart is leaping for joy.  My Heavenly Father, my Savior, my God, has shown upon me His mercy.  Knowing that I have done NOTHING to deserve it.  No works of righteousness can convince Him that I do.  BUT...GOD.  Those two words, that bring me to my knees in thankfulness. 

7 that having been justified by His grace we should become heirs according to the hope of eternal life. 

I have this vision of what judgement day will be like for all of us.  I picture it like a court room.  The charges are being read, the Devil so eagerly awaiting each of us to be handed over, because that is what we deserve.  And then Jesus steps forward, raises his hand and says, "BUT GOD..." and nothing else will matter.  

And it does not get any better than that.

Have a blessed weekend, my friends. 

My unraveling: point of no return (Part III)

Hell.

That is the only way to describe the aftermath of my revelations.

Stuck in an airport with people I barely knew, but who knew my darkest secrets.  Stuck catching sideways glances and dirty looks from our group.  Stuck with the constant reminder of what kind of person I was.  Stuck on flights. Stuck in baggage claim.  Stuck on the bus on the way to port.  Stuck in port before boarding the cruise ship.  Stuck in line boarding the ship.  Stuck in a 200 sq. ft. room.  Stuck on a ship in the middle of the ocean without cell service.  No where to run away from each other.  Just, stuck.

No escape from what Aaron and I should have been dealing with privately, which was now very public.  All I wanted to do was crawl in a hole, let the world close in and be done with it.  All Aaron wanted was to be as far away from me as possible.

Choking on my mistakes, choking on my betrayal, choking on the overwhelming disappointment in myself, choking back sobs with having hurt the one person I loved most in the world.

 And he was stuck.  Everywhere he turned I was there; my face once brought so much joy, now only reminded him of our heartache.  No where to run and be free of our drama, even momentarily.  The 200 sq. ft. room kept getting smaller and smaller. 

The first few days of the trip were the worst we had experienced, ever, as a couple.  The pain in Aaron's face just looking at me.  For months before this, we had not really looked at each other.  For months we had been floating through time, not living but merely existing.  And now, we would never look at each other the same way again, ever.

 I do not think either of us slept the first night.  We did not know how to act.  We did not have time before we left to think about how to even begin to approach dealing with it.  Were we supposed to talk it out?  Were we supposed to ignore it until we got home?  How were we supposed to act like nothing was wrong, in such close quarters?  Were we staying together?  Were we strong enough to get through it?  What. Do. We. Do. Now??

Again, we were lost.  Lost to ourselves and lost to each other and the world was closing in.

But we could not afford to fall apart. Here we were, in the most beautiful of places, with our little girl who deserved more out of us.  There was no way to act like nothing had happened, but Abi deserved a memorable experience on this once-in-a-lifetime vacation.  So that is what we did.  The next night, after Aaron had gone out and mustered up all the liquid courage he could, he came back to the room and we had our version of "having it out".  Then we moved on. Bottled up the pain and the hurt and the harsh words, and just saved them.  Swallowed all of the emotions you can imagine that accompany such a traumatic event in a marriage, and put on an act for Abi.  Enjoyed our vacation through her.  It did not change the fact that we did not want to be around each other, just put our love for Abi above everything else.

By doing so, it allowed us to move the focus from ourselves and our hurt.  It allowed us to enjoy our trip and even slip back into who we were before, as a couple.  There would be time to grieve, there would be time to fight and argue and scream, but right then it was time to help Abi have the time of her life.

Before snorkeling.  She freaked out when the fish came to eat the Ritz cracker from her hand.  You could hear her screaming under water. 

Could not keep her out of the pool.  She is quite the little fishy herself.

Our exploration day.  We rode in a crazy taxi to a remote beach and ate at a beachfront hotel open bar.  The sites were amazing.

By the end of the trip, we were exhausted.  Not only from all we did; up from sunrise to sunset, pool side, excursions, mini-golf, sun burns, all the food, the shows, the unlimited soft-serve ice cream; but I think the exhaustion came also from hiding from what we knew was inevitable.  This fairytale away from the real world was coming to a screeching halt as soon as the plane hit the ground in Charlotte.  The reality of what we were trying so desperately to avoid was going to have to rear it's ugly face again, only this time there would not be the escape of a magical vacation. 

What it means to be a nurse

I love my job.  I do.  I sincerely do.  There are times when it is overwhelming though; the physical, mental and emotional demands of my chosen occupation are exhausting.  But I love it.  I was created to be a nurse.

Why I do what I do...

• because having only 30 minutes for lunch does not matter

We all complain about it.  Only 30 minutes for lunch out of 12 hour shift?  Not even uninterrupted can we sit in the break room and quietly eat our lunch.  Calls on that pesky phone that we have to carry from doctors, physical therapists, dietitians, the ever nagging charge nurse, distraught family members and even the occasional wrong number.  And yet, we still come to work.  The minor disturbance is not enough to distract us from our bigger purpose.

• because we have to have thick skin

Verbal abuse from patients and even family members is not okay, but we listen.  Realizing that sometimes all of the emotions pinned up inside have to come out somehow.  When a family is dealing with a traumatic diagnosis, life-altering, sometimes even life-ending, news, those emotions will surface regardless.  The loss of control over one's body, loss of control over the outcome, manifests itself in other ways.  And sometimes, we take the brunt. 

• because we play the role of nurse, advocate, therapist, waitress, masseuse....

Nursing is not just handing out medications.  Keen assessment skills to notice even the slightest of changes in a patient that could mean life or death.  Listening to a family member who thinks "something just is not right with daddy," and acting on that instinct.  Advocating for my patients if I feel a decision has been made incorrectly or helping to determine a plan of care.  Listening to the life situations of patients that have nothing to do with why they are in the hospital, but understanding it is important for them to talk about it.  Being ordered to "get me a cheeseburger, fries with extra salt, three sodas, cookies for all of my visitors and ice" and giving the friendly reminder of "you are on a cardiac floor and are not allowed to eat those things" and being hated the rest of the shift because of it.  

• because we take very seriously the impact we might have on another human being.  

Holding the hand of a frail, 80-something man who has just learned that although he has lived a good life and never really been sick, has developed a cancer that not only involves a major organ of his body, but has spread and is beyond treatment.  

Washing the hair of a 45 year old woman who has been in the hospital for three weeks and barely has any family visit with her.  Combing the tangled mess and wiping away her tears because she feels so alone.

Laughing with a couple who will be celebrating their 55th wedding anniversary this year and sharing pictures of their grandchildren and great-grandchildren. 

Comforting the confused, the forgotten, the homeless, the afflicted, the mentally unstable. 

• because not only do we impact the lives of others, but those others impact our own lives

A family member who recognizes you for something as simple as asking how they slept, or if you could get them a cup of coffee.  

Receiving marital advice from that couple who will be celebrating their 55th wedding anniversary this year. 

Hugs from the 45 year old woman whose tears you have been wiping who, although she cannot speak, mouths "thank you" repeatedly.  

Putting the confused patient back to bed for the 300th time and thinking, "this could be my grandparent, or my parent, or even me". 

I was created to be a nurse.  This job has taught me more about myself than I ever cared to know.  I now know more deeply my strengths and my weaknesses.  What I was born with- my compassion for others, a nurturing spirit, a determination to make an impact- has taken stronger roots and blossomed.  Only a fellow nurse can understand exactly what it means to be a nurse.  We wear many hats and wear them with pride. Because we love what we do. 

Time flies when you're having fun!

Whew! It has been a busy last few weeks!

So, to get you caught back up on our lives, in the last three weeks we:

• spent three days in the hospital with dad
• shot a commercial 
• put our house up for sale
• survived a blizzard, earthquake and heat wave (that may be exaggerating a bit)

Ok, looking at that tiny list, it does not seem like a lot but it was a big month for us!  

On an early, early Sunday morning, Aaron, Abi and I traveled to a picturesque farm called Hunting Creek Farm.  They raise and show clydesdale horses and they something like 700 acres in the North Carolina countryside.  We show up and are mingling with the other cast members, film crew, production crew, etc, in a huge banquet hall on the property.  They get us dressed, make-up applied and we are off to shoot the first scene.  Legally, I cannot give out more details than that, but it was an amazing day! We got to experience a whole new level of fun, and it was as a family, so that was the best part.

Next,  was dad's spinal surgery and it went splendid.  I spent the first night and my sister spend the second night.  I had not spent the night away from my little family in....I do not remember, but it was fun to share late night Wendy's with just my sisters and our dad after surgery.  We do not get time like that often with our busy, dispersed lives.  He was the model patient, literally the most perfect patient anyone could have asked for, and I can attest for the non-perfect ones.  He was discharged on the third morning and recovered even better than he expected.  He has been cleared to go back to work even! 

The week after dad was released, he stayed with my sister about ten minutes away from us.  We had all these big plans of visiting together, going for walks, etc, but none of it happened because we spent three days snowed in!  We do not get snow like that where we live.  Maybe once in a couple years we will get more than an inch of ice and a few flurries.  This time, we got dumped on.  Abi loved it, and we loved that we got to spend a lot of time together.  Aaron and I work such opposite schedules we do not get a lot of quality time.  So, for us, getting snowed in was the best!

Lastly, we put our house up for sale.  This was a decision that a lot of people may not understand, but for us it makes perfect sense.  Will explain more later!

It has been a busy few weeks, thank you all for your continued love and support, it means so much to us!

Three hours and counting...

Dad is going under the knife today and having fusion of C7 and T1. He started having some weakness and numbness in his hands and legs a few months ago. Very reminiscent of his first back surgery, though this time only two vertebrae are involved. 

The best part? Getting video of him after they gave the Versed.  Blackmail!!

The best daddy ever.  

Forgiven

There are things in our pasts that we want to keep buried.  I would love nothing more than to forget about three years of our life and just move on.  However, writing this blog has reopened a lot of old wounds and I am really feeling the weight of my mistakes.

The weight of hurting those I love most in the world.

The weight of hurting someone I did not even know.

The weight of letting God down, letting myself down.

_


Yesterday was the last of three shifts and it always seems to happen the same way when I work three in a row, about 4:30 everything starts to fall apart.  I get a new admission (who is 500 lbs and needs a deep cleaning head to toe immediately that takes four of us and 45 minutes to do), one patient needs a timed adjustment on an IV medication that I was supposed to do 30 minutes ago, one patient reverts back to a-fib with heart rates in the 160s so I need to call a doctor for new orders, and one patient who has just come back from a procedure and has not eaten since the night before.  Every time.

I was trying to get out on time.  I was tired.  Three 14-hour days is not easy.  Especially when I am still waking up in the middle of the night to pump once and up by 5.  7:15 rolled around and I was still charting.  7:45 rolled around and I was finally clocking out.  On my way out, I ran into my best good friend and we talked for another 30 minutes.  It was just not meant for me to get home on time and shower and go to bed.

Fifteen minutes into my ride home, I changed the radio station to 96.5, which is a christian station.  A new song came on that I had never heard before.  Hearing the words, listening to what God had laid on someone's heart to write, I knew why I was meant to be late.

Well, the past is playing with my head
And failure knocks me down again
I’m reminded of the wrong
That I have said and done
And that devil just won't let me forget

In this life
I know what I’ve been
But here in your arms
I know what I am

I’m forgiven
I’m forgiven
And I don’t have to carry
The weight of who I’ve been
'Cause I’m forgiven

When I don't fit in and I don’t feel like I belong anywhere
When I don’t measure up to much in this life
Oh, I’m a treasure in the arms of Christ

I’m forgiven
I’m forgiven
And I don’t have to carry
The weight of who I’ve been
'Cause I’m forgiven

It hit me in the gut.  Tears streaming down my face, my Savior was telling me it is ok.  He knows what I have done, he knows what I have been, but in His arms I am safe, I am loved for everything I am and I am forgiven.

Condemnation in any form is hard to deal with; from the outside by people who know your mistakes but do not know your soul, and sometimes self-condemnation is heavier and becomes unbearable.  The devils of our past creep up and give us no rest.  A relentless highlights reel that plays in our heads.  We relive all of our mistakes and feel every sting again and the burden of guilt.  

But this is my testimony.  If anyone can tell you, it is me.  God is a big God.  He sent his Son to die on a cross, for you and me (yes, even me), so that we may know true love, so that we can experience true forgiveness and can stand before Him one day, clean.

I immediately got on my iTunes and bought the song.  It has been on repeat since last night.  It is amazing how God reminds me how much He loves me.  And He loves you too. 



Romans 8: 1-4

There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit. ² For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free from the law of sin and death. ³ For what the law could not do in that it was weak through the flesh, God did by sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, on account of sin: He condemned sin in the flesh, ⁴ that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us who do not walk according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.