This has been a rough year. My roughest yet. Because I am a highly emotional, sensitive person, I evaluate “roughness” on a how-emotionally-challenging-its-been scale. This year has, thus far, been off the charts difficult. However, this is not the place for me to divulge the details of that ‘roughness’. Suffice it to say, the personal agony and grief I have experienced in 2010 has been unlike any I have ever known. But that is not the point of this entry. It is, nevertheless, the impetus behind it.
I decided to quit Facebook this year, after having been on it for many years now. It was the right decision for me to make, for many many reasons, although it was difficult to do. I discovered, through Facebook, the facts that rocked my world and led to the above paragraph. After that, for many weeks, even the mere sight of the Facebook logo took me back to that horrible Sunday morning when my world came crashing down. I could not see it without wanting to vomit. This very visceral response made me think that maybe it was better to no longer have an account, and quit cold turkey. Even though I deactivated it, a few months ago, in recent weeks, from time to time, I’d hop back on, in brief spurts, to catch up with peoples’ lives that I have no contact with in “real life”. That was one of the benefits of FB, for me, originally. I was able to keep in touch, albeit cyber-ly, with those that I would not have been able to in reality. I was able to reconnect with old classmates and friends that I had lost touch with.
However, now, what had once been a benefit has become a liability. In my current emotional state, it is crucially important for me to focus on God, what He has done through Jesus, and His very real and powerful promises that He shares with me through His Word. One of them is that He has a plan for me, a good plan, better than anything I can think up for myself. Recently, in my brief forays into Facebook-dom, I have seen the postings of friends who are getting married, recently married, having children. I see these joy-filled entries, and am filled with joy myself for these friends and the blessings in their lives. But there is also a part of me, a big part, that aches. I feel so far from that, and back to square one, and feel like God has forgotten about me. My heart has been crushed, and I see others living the life I’ve always wanted. It makes me doubt God, doubt myself, and generally feel even more buried in my personal ick. All of these things are not how I want to feel, and also, most importantly, are UNTRUE. I cannot compare myself and my life to those of others. God has a special plan for each and every one of His creation, and that I know to be true with every fiber of my being. But Facebook has become, for me, not a vehicle of blessing, but an instrument of discouragement. I don’t think that FB intrinsically has these characteristics:), like I said, there are so many benefits to it. But for me, for where I am at right now, it is unhelpful for me to continue with it.
So if you have noticed I was a friend of yours on Facebook and am now missing, this is why. It isn’t because I unfriended you:), as one sweet friend recently asked me. He texted me a few weeks ago and wondered if I had dumped him or quit FB.
Also, I have been feeling the increasing need to connect with friends and family in real time, to have deep and real relationships in person.Facebook has made it so easy for me to satisfy my need to connect by "writing on someone's wall" in lieu of a real conversation.
I just want to clarify that I don’t think FB is evil or anything; I think it is a wonderful tool for us to maintain connectivity to those that we can’t see in every day life. But, with what I am dealing with right now, and where I’m at, and my desires to build the relationships in real time that the Lord has blessed me with, it is a decision that I feel is right for me. To all my FB friends, those I still see and those I don’t, please know that you are all very important to me, and I hope to reestablish contact with you all in the future. God bless you all.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Friday, April 30, 2010
God Comforting Me Through Spurgeon
I read this today...it felt like God was speaking to me, right where I am currently. I feel like He understands. As I continue to walk, no, rather, crawl, through this, the darkest period of my life, and seek to make sense of the terrible reality I have suffered, I am thankful on my face to God Who walks with me. And for the friends He has given me who have held me through this.
"Thou art my hope in the day of evil." - Jeremiah 17:17
"The path of the Christian is not always bright with sunshine; he has his seasons of darkness and of storm. True, it is written in God's Word, 'Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace;' and it is a great truth, that religion is calculated to give a man happiness below as well as bliss above; but experience tells us that if the course of the just be "As the shining light that shineth more and more unto the perfect day", yet sometimes THAT light is eclipsed. At certain periods clouds cover the believer's sun, and he walks in darkness and sees no light. There are many who have rejoiced in the presence of God for a season; they have basked in the sunshine in the earlier stages of their Christian career; they have walked along the 'green pastures' by the side of the 'still waters' but suddenly they find the glorious sky is clouded; instead of the Land of Goshen they have to tread the sandy desert; in the place of sweet waters, they find troubled streams, bitter to their taste, and they say, "Surely, if I were a child of God, this would not happen." Oh! Say not so, thou who art walking in darkness. The best of God's saints must drink the wormwood; the dearest of His children must bear the cross. No Christian has enjoyed perpetual prosperity; no believer can always keep his harp from the willows. Perhaps the Lord allotted you at first a smooth and unclouded path, because you were weak and timid. He tempered the wind to the shorn lamb, but now that you are stronger in the spiritual life, you must enter upon the riper and rougher experience of God's full-grown children. We need winds and tempests to exercise our faith, to tear off the rotten bough of self-dependence, and to root us more firmly in Christ. The day of evil reveals to us the value of our glorious hope."
Thank You, Jesus.
"Thou art my hope in the day of evil." - Jeremiah 17:17
"The path of the Christian is not always bright with sunshine; he has his seasons of darkness and of storm. True, it is written in God's Word, 'Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace;' and it is a great truth, that religion is calculated to give a man happiness below as well as bliss above; but experience tells us that if the course of the just be "As the shining light that shineth more and more unto the perfect day", yet sometimes THAT light is eclipsed. At certain periods clouds cover the believer's sun, and he walks in darkness and sees no light. There are many who have rejoiced in the presence of God for a season; they have basked in the sunshine in the earlier stages of their Christian career; they have walked along the 'green pastures' by the side of the 'still waters' but suddenly they find the glorious sky is clouded; instead of the Land of Goshen they have to tread the sandy desert; in the place of sweet waters, they find troubled streams, bitter to their taste, and they say, "Surely, if I were a child of God, this would not happen." Oh! Say not so, thou who art walking in darkness. The best of God's saints must drink the wormwood; the dearest of His children must bear the cross. No Christian has enjoyed perpetual prosperity; no believer can always keep his harp from the willows. Perhaps the Lord allotted you at first a smooth and unclouded path, because you were weak and timid. He tempered the wind to the shorn lamb, but now that you are stronger in the spiritual life, you must enter upon the riper and rougher experience of God's full-grown children. We need winds and tempests to exercise our faith, to tear off the rotten bough of self-dependence, and to root us more firmly in Christ. The day of evil reveals to us the value of our glorious hope."
Thank You, Jesus.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
What Happened at Clinical
I know it's not the end of Lent yet, so I shouldn't be on here, but sometimes I just have to write, no matter the constraints. Something happened in clinical last week that rather ties into other things that I've been going through personally, and I wanted to write about it.
I've been praying ever since I knew that primary care was the field that I wanted to go into, about what to do when I encountered a certain situation, a situation I knew sooner or later that I would encounter. The issue is abortion. I am staunchly pro-life; I believe that life begins with conception. I believe that God has knitted us together in our mothers' wombs, and He knows us even before that. As a provider, though, I knew that I would undoubtably come into contact with people, most likely many people, that do not feel how I do about it. However, it is my desire to give everyone, no matter what they believe, the best care I can possibly give them. Therefore, I faced a dilemma. I could not, in good conscience, advocate for the termination of an unwanted pregnancy. That child in the womb was just as real to me as though it were sitting outside, next to its mother. Yet, as a provider, it is my responsibility to provide the patient with the full spectrum of options available to her. This is what I knew would be facing me, but previous to last Friday, I had not met it outside of my imagination.
A young woman is in to see me, ostensibly for weight loss advice. However, as is often the case, her real reason came out for being there. She wanted to do a pregnancy test; she had had unprotected sex a few weeks previously and had missed her period. She was unmarried, very poor, and did not have higher than a 10th grade educational level. She already had two young children by two other men, and didn't want another kid. So we do the pregnancy test, wait the prescribed amount of time, and look at the results. Positive. It was then that I asked her if she had thought about what she wanted to do, and she informed me that she didn't want "it". I felt that my emotions must be all over my face; I nearly started crying. But I tried to hold it together, went and got the supervising physician, and asked him if I could watch him do a "just found out I am pregnant" appointment, since I've never seen one done before. He did, and after she had left, I asked to speak to him. And then I started tearing up. I told him about my beliefs, about my faith, and my severe inner turmoil over how best to be faithful to Jesus and love and serve my patient to the best of my ability. We talked for awhile about it; he is pro-choice but was very respectful and not at all condescending about my beliefs. He told me that it was perfectly alright to tell the patient that I have very strong beliefs in this area, and I don't feel that I would best be able to advise her, and then refer her to another practitioner.
One of our providers feels the same way I do about things, but tells her clients not to get abortions because then God will come down from heaven and strike them dead, or hate them forever. This is completely unbiblical, and that approach makes my heart hurt as much as advising an abortion does. I believe that these women, and the men they are with need compassion and support. I can't imagine what it must be like to be thirteen, a mother already, have no male support, and be pregnant again. How unbelievably scary. However, I also know that it is not the baby's fault, and he/she shouldn't have their life ended because of the circumstances. There are many arguments for both sides, that I will not go into here. Suffice it to say, it was an emotionally trying, yet very growing, experience for me. When I got home that night, I prayed and thanked God for guiding me through that. I feel that really, all I can do in these situations is to pray for wisdom and strength to do what is best for the patient while still maintaining my personal integrity, and also to pray for the patient and what is going on in his/her life. God keeps reminding me that I am here as a conduit of His; that my purpose in becoming an NP is to love and serve Him by loving and serving His people.
I read this recently in a book of devotions, and it encouraged and comforted me, both for some present personal difficulties in my life, and also that God is in control of all the events in life. I include it here in the hope that it gives encouragement to anyone else who reads it:
from Charles Spurgeon's Morning and Evening Devotions:
"God's people have their trials. It was never designed by God, when He chose His people, that they should be an untried people. They were chosen in the furnace of affliction; they were never chosen to worldly peace and earthly joy. Freedom from sickness and the pains of mortality were never promised them. So surely as the stars are fashioned by His hands, and their orbits fixed by Him, so surely are our trials allotted to us: He has ordained their season and their place, their intensity and the effect they shall have upon us. But although tribulation is thus the path of God's children, they have the comfort of knowing that their Master has traversed it before them; they have His presence and sympathy to cheer them, His grace to support them, and His example to teach them how to endure; and when they reach Heaven, it will more than make amends for the "much tribulation" through which they passed to enter it...to every matter there is a bright and a dark side. It is well for us if, while the flesh mourns over trials, our faith triumphs in divine faithfulness. The stormy sea feeds multitudes with its fishes; the wild wood blooms with beauteous flowerets; the stormy wind sweeps away the pestilence; a vein of good is to be found in every mine of evil...Out of the rough oyster-shell of difficulty she extracts the rare pearl of honor, and from the deep ocean-caves of distress she uplifts the priceless coral of experience. When her flood of prosperity ebbs, she finds treasures hid in the sands; and when her sun of delight goes down, she turns her telescope of hope to the starry promises of heaven."
I've been praying ever since I knew that primary care was the field that I wanted to go into, about what to do when I encountered a certain situation, a situation I knew sooner or later that I would encounter. The issue is abortion. I am staunchly pro-life; I believe that life begins with conception. I believe that God has knitted us together in our mothers' wombs, and He knows us even before that. As a provider, though, I knew that I would undoubtably come into contact with people, most likely many people, that do not feel how I do about it. However, it is my desire to give everyone, no matter what they believe, the best care I can possibly give them. Therefore, I faced a dilemma. I could not, in good conscience, advocate for the termination of an unwanted pregnancy. That child in the womb was just as real to me as though it were sitting outside, next to its mother. Yet, as a provider, it is my responsibility to provide the patient with the full spectrum of options available to her. This is what I knew would be facing me, but previous to last Friday, I had not met it outside of my imagination.
A young woman is in to see me, ostensibly for weight loss advice. However, as is often the case, her real reason came out for being there. She wanted to do a pregnancy test; she had had unprotected sex a few weeks previously and had missed her period. She was unmarried, very poor, and did not have higher than a 10th grade educational level. She already had two young children by two other men, and didn't want another kid. So we do the pregnancy test, wait the prescribed amount of time, and look at the results. Positive. It was then that I asked her if she had thought about what she wanted to do, and she informed me that she didn't want "it". I felt that my emotions must be all over my face; I nearly started crying. But I tried to hold it together, went and got the supervising physician, and asked him if I could watch him do a "just found out I am pregnant" appointment, since I've never seen one done before. He did, and after she had left, I asked to speak to him. And then I started tearing up. I told him about my beliefs, about my faith, and my severe inner turmoil over how best to be faithful to Jesus and love and serve my patient to the best of my ability. We talked for awhile about it; he is pro-choice but was very respectful and not at all condescending about my beliefs. He told me that it was perfectly alright to tell the patient that I have very strong beliefs in this area, and I don't feel that I would best be able to advise her, and then refer her to another practitioner.
One of our providers feels the same way I do about things, but tells her clients not to get abortions because then God will come down from heaven and strike them dead, or hate them forever. This is completely unbiblical, and that approach makes my heart hurt as much as advising an abortion does. I believe that these women, and the men they are with need compassion and support. I can't imagine what it must be like to be thirteen, a mother already, have no male support, and be pregnant again. How unbelievably scary. However, I also know that it is not the baby's fault, and he/she shouldn't have their life ended because of the circumstances. There are many arguments for both sides, that I will not go into here. Suffice it to say, it was an emotionally trying, yet very growing, experience for me. When I got home that night, I prayed and thanked God for guiding me through that. I feel that really, all I can do in these situations is to pray for wisdom and strength to do what is best for the patient while still maintaining my personal integrity, and also to pray for the patient and what is going on in his/her life. God keeps reminding me that I am here as a conduit of His; that my purpose in becoming an NP is to love and serve Him by loving and serving His people.
I read this recently in a book of devotions, and it encouraged and comforted me, both for some present personal difficulties in my life, and also that God is in control of all the events in life. I include it here in the hope that it gives encouragement to anyone else who reads it:
from Charles Spurgeon's Morning and Evening Devotions:
"God's people have their trials. It was never designed by God, when He chose His people, that they should be an untried people. They were chosen in the furnace of affliction; they were never chosen to worldly peace and earthly joy. Freedom from sickness and the pains of mortality were never promised them. So surely as the stars are fashioned by His hands, and their orbits fixed by Him, so surely are our trials allotted to us: He has ordained their season and their place, their intensity and the effect they shall have upon us. But although tribulation is thus the path of God's children, they have the comfort of knowing that their Master has traversed it before them; they have His presence and sympathy to cheer them, His grace to support them, and His example to teach them how to endure; and when they reach Heaven, it will more than make amends for the "much tribulation" through which they passed to enter it...to every matter there is a bright and a dark side. It is well for us if, while the flesh mourns over trials, our faith triumphs in divine faithfulness. The stormy sea feeds multitudes with its fishes; the wild wood blooms with beauteous flowerets; the stormy wind sweeps away the pestilence; a vein of good is to be found in every mine of evil...Out of the rough oyster-shell of difficulty she extracts the rare pearl of honor, and from the deep ocean-caves of distress she uplifts the priceless coral of experience. When her flood of prosperity ebbs, she finds treasures hid in the sands; and when her sun of delight goes down, she turns her telescope of hope to the starry promises of heaven."
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monday, November 30, 2009
First Week of Advent
Sometimes I feel pretty hypocritical writing things like what I'm going to write because I see what an incredible hypocrite I am. But sometimes, like now, I just have to write anyway:)
From Jeremiah: "So the word of the Lord has brought me insult and reproach all day long. But if I say, 'I will not mention Him or speak any more in His name', His word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my very bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot."
So it's the first week of Advent, of the four weeks of Advent, culminating in Christmas. I was reading this in a book, and it was so wonderful. Ever since I became a Christian, the Bible became living to me, and I long to delve deeper and deeper into it, to discover its layer upon layer upon layer of meaning, much like a Holy lasagna! There is so much in it that I wrestle with, so much that I frankly don't like, and even more that is completely incomprehensible to me. But nevertheless, it is truly living and active, and revelatory. As we prepare our hearts to celebrate Christ's birth, it would do me well to remember all of the miraculous events surrounding His life and death.
From "Fifth Seal" by Bodie and Brock Thoene:
The rushing wind stirred the wild oats. Oak leaves rattled as the sun sank low in the west and the twilight fell. And then, on the breeze, Yosef heard the voice:
' Yosef bar Jacob...Yosef, son of Jacob. Adonai has heard your question.'
"Which question? I've asked so many!"
'How is it that the Messiah is called Bar El Olam -- Son of the Eternal God -- yet will live on earth and be called Yeshua bar Yosef?' Before time existed, He existed. Listen to the Word of Adonai..."In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were created; without Him nothing was created which had been created. In Him is the life, and that life is the light of men. The light will shine in the darkness, but the darkness will not understand it."
"You speak of Messiah. Of the baby Mary carries. Yeshua, who will be my son. Yeshua bar Yosef...Son of the mighty Elohim? Yeshua bar Yahweh? I still don't know how it can be or why."
'He is within the first word of Scripture. Think, Yosef, of the first word in Torah. Six Hebrew letters: bet....resh....alef....sheen....yod....tav....pronounced BeRESHiYT. What does it mean?'
"In the beginning."
'These six letters contain the clue to all creation. Read it in Hebrew. Only two letters at a time. Begin, "In the beginning".
"Bet Resh".
'Stop there. Now tell me what small Hebrew word is spelled by Bet Resh.'
"The first two Hebrew letters of "in the beginning" are Bet and Resh...the exact same spelling as the Hebrew word for Bar! Son! Bar! It indicates the 'heir apparent, a ruler coequal with his father'."
'Now, the next two letters, please.'
"Alef. Sheen. Of course! This spells the Hebrew word for 'foundation'! The next two letters Yod and Tav spell Yath! This mean 'who'!...Bet...Resh...Alef...the word is Bara. This means 'created'!"
'Now, breaking the Hebrew sentence into these smaller words, what eternal truth do the first nine letters of Genesis explain?'
"Bar...son...heir of the Father. Osh...from foundation. Yath...who. Bara....created."
'Go on. One with Elohim, He created...the heavens and the earth.' Yosef's visitor stood and bowed deeply as he finished his proclamation.'The Word of the Lord. This amplifies the truth of eternity. It does not contradict it. So, you see, within the Hebrew word IN THE BEGINNING is also the identity of the Creator. He is the Son. He is the Heir. He has existed from the Foundation. He is the Word. The Creator. The Son and Heir is one in being with Elohim. And there is much, much more. So very much more eternal truth woven into these nine letters...if only we had time.'
"Wait! Don't go! Don't leave me feeling so...small!"
'It is written. Soon! Soon! He is coming soon! You will behold him face-to-face. Immanu'el...God-with-us.'
On a typically cruddy and frustrating Monday, this was just what I needed to read to remind me that God's got it under control.
From Jeremiah: "So the word of the Lord has brought me insult and reproach all day long. But if I say, 'I will not mention Him or speak any more in His name', His word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my very bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot."
So it's the first week of Advent, of the four weeks of Advent, culminating in Christmas. I was reading this in a book, and it was so wonderful. Ever since I became a Christian, the Bible became living to me, and I long to delve deeper and deeper into it, to discover its layer upon layer upon layer of meaning, much like a Holy lasagna! There is so much in it that I wrestle with, so much that I frankly don't like, and even more that is completely incomprehensible to me. But nevertheless, it is truly living and active, and revelatory. As we prepare our hearts to celebrate Christ's birth, it would do me well to remember all of the miraculous events surrounding His life and death.
From "Fifth Seal" by Bodie and Brock Thoene:
The rushing wind stirred the wild oats. Oak leaves rattled as the sun sank low in the west and the twilight fell. And then, on the breeze, Yosef heard the voice:
' Yosef bar Jacob...Yosef, son of Jacob. Adonai has heard your question.'
"Which question? I've asked so many!"
'How is it that the Messiah is called Bar El Olam -- Son of the Eternal God -- yet will live on earth and be called Yeshua bar Yosef?' Before time existed, He existed. Listen to the Word of Adonai..."In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were created; without Him nothing was created which had been created. In Him is the life, and that life is the light of men. The light will shine in the darkness, but the darkness will not understand it."
"You speak of Messiah. Of the baby Mary carries. Yeshua, who will be my son. Yeshua bar Yosef...Son of the mighty Elohim? Yeshua bar Yahweh? I still don't know how it can be or why."
'He is within the first word of Scripture. Think, Yosef, of the first word in Torah. Six Hebrew letters: bet....resh....alef....sheen....yod....tav....pronounced BeRESHiYT. What does it mean?'
"In the beginning."
'These six letters contain the clue to all creation. Read it in Hebrew. Only two letters at a time. Begin, "In the beginning".
"Bet Resh".
'Stop there. Now tell me what small Hebrew word is spelled by Bet Resh.'
"The first two Hebrew letters of "in the beginning" are Bet and Resh...the exact same spelling as the Hebrew word for Bar! Son! Bar! It indicates the 'heir apparent, a ruler coequal with his father'."
'Now, the next two letters, please.'
"Alef. Sheen. Of course! This spells the Hebrew word for 'foundation'! The next two letters Yod and Tav spell Yath! This mean 'who'!...Bet...Resh...Alef...the word is Bara. This means 'created'!"
'Now, breaking the Hebrew sentence into these smaller words, what eternal truth do the first nine letters of Genesis explain?'
"Bar...son...heir of the Father. Osh...from foundation. Yath...who. Bara....created."
'Go on. One with Elohim, He created...the heavens and the earth.' Yosef's visitor stood and bowed deeply as he finished his proclamation.'The Word of the Lord. This amplifies the truth of eternity. It does not contradict it. So, you see, within the Hebrew word IN THE BEGINNING is also the identity of the Creator. He is the Son. He is the Heir. He has existed from the Foundation. He is the Word. The Creator. The Son and Heir is one in being with Elohim. And there is much, much more. So very much more eternal truth woven into these nine letters...if only we had time.'
"Wait! Don't go! Don't leave me feeling so...small!"
'It is written. Soon! Soon! He is coming soon! You will behold him face-to-face. Immanu'el...God-with-us.'
On a typically cruddy and frustrating Monday, this was just what I needed to read to remind me that God's got it under control.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
My First Stint as an NP...Sorta
So, today was my first 'official' "clinical" as an NP...there are so many quotes there because I spent the day at a Health Fair, and did nothing beyond general nursing. But as it happened under the purview of my NP curriculum, I'm counting it. I wasn't so sure what to expect; we were at a very cool organization by Columbia's main campus, and were there all day to do general screening and whatnot for the employees, of which there were many.
I started out the morning at the Urology station, shadowing a dickens of a doctor, who told me, upon meeting him, that he was "One hundred and forty years old!" and proclaimed his profession to be "plumber", when asked if he was a doctor! He was an absolute hoot! Anyone who knows me knows my odd affinity for all people old, and I wanted to just put him in my pocket and take him home with me, he was so adorable! He was talking about his history, speaking in a mellow Irish brogue, reciting his tales of med school and training. He has been in the states for years, but grew up and received training in Dublin and London, and came here with his family many years ago.
His favorite thing to talk about was urology jokes. Definitely inapprops, and most likely offensive to at least half of the general populace, but coming from him, it just made one laugh. He really liked one about a Polish urologist: "You know how doctors do a rectal exam of your prostate with just one finger? Well, there was this Polish urologist. And another doctor was with him one day, and noticed that the Polish urologist was doing an exam with two fingers, instead of the customary one. So he asked him about it. The Polish doctor answered, 'I do it with two...one to do the exam, the other to give a second opinion!'" Laughing ensues:) Then he asked us if we had ever heard of the 'pasteurized' diet. No, we answered, you mean like milk and stuff? "Oh no", he says, and winks at me. "You just watch the food go past-your-eyes!!" Hahaha. So stinkin adorable, I almost couldn't take it. We talked about pelvic floor exercises and stress incontinence (peeing your pants when laughing/coughing/etc) and other such delightful subjects. I loved working with him!
Then it was time to rotate out. Giti and I went out to the registration table, the table that pretty much determined the flow of the whole room. It was our turn to direct things. And by direct, I mean, collate some papers and give them to people to sign. The funny thing was, by this time, I was getting low blood sugar cause I hadn't eaten in a few hours, and was starting to see everything as quite funny. Giti seemed to be similarly affected, so that didn't really bode well for the professionalism aspect that we are supposed to portray as NPs.
So we receive a quick tutorial from some fellow students, and sit down to see what we can do. Which turns out to be, not much. Anything beyond putting intake papers on a clipboard and telling people to bring back the pens seemed to be totally beyond us. If someone asked us a question about anything but that, we'd look at each other, and feel like saying, "Yeah. Between the two of us we have about five advanced degrees. But we're doing the papers. So we're gonna go ahead and direct you to that person over there who most likely knows as little as we do, but will make up an answer for you. Have a lovely day." No, we didn't say that, but we sure as hell felt like it. We'd send people to the blood pressure table, thinking, "Riiiiiiggghhhht. Why don't you just go over there to (whomever-insert classmate's name here), and she'll hook you up with a reeeeaal nice blood pressure. Yeah, I know a guy. You want a good pressure? Something to lower your rates for the insurance company? Yeah, just go see my friend over there. She'll take care of you good..." said in best imitation mob member voice.
We were laughing so hard that at one point I had tears rolling down my face and was gasping for air. And I was not unobtrusive at all, which made it worse. We got to the point of saying the same thing over and over, "Hi! Welcome. Just fill out all your information on the white part, sign here by the x, then (turning to next page), sign your name here and date. Then bring back the clipboard and pen, and we'll direct you where to go next!" and maybe it was the repetitiveness of it or something, but Giti was rolling through the schpeal and I lost it. I bent over and 'pretended' to be looking for some papers under the table but was really silently laughing so hard I almost peed my pants. And then I hear Giti losing it as she explains things to a client, which is NOT good, and when she is done, she gets up and excuses herself. She has to leave the room she is laughing so hard. We physically could not even look at each other without losing it.
I have this bad feeling that someday, I'll get attacked with the giggles at an inapprops time, which honestly, happens to me more than it should, and a patient will think I'm laughing at them. Like, someone comes in to see me, and I am reviewing the results of their bloodwork with them, and it turns out that they are positive for tumor markers and their MRI shows a mass and the biopsy came back positive, and I have to tell them they have cancer. And I look up at them, and start laughing. Deep, trembling belly laughs. Totally inappropriate laughing. And I can't stop. I just can't stop. I would probably be the person who laughs at a funeral, even though inside I might be devastated and weeping and missing the person so badly, outside, something would strike me as funny and I'd be off. I really need to work on this.
So when we came back from lunch, I was doing blood pressures, which morphed into health counseling, and I found myself spewing out info about cholesterol levels, BMI, blood pressure, etc. and I had no idea where it was coming from. Turns out I know a little more than I generally think I do. But I often feel like I know just a wee bit more than a patient, and think, "Wow, if you really knew that I am desperately searching my mind for this info, and I'm pretty sure I know it, but maybe I don't, I don't know..." but having to appear completely confident on the outside, it makes me think of what my friend Ash says about it. Seeing as we are all new nurses, she said that her first few months on the job felt like it was all smoke and mirrors...you say something to the patient which you are mostly sure about, but you have to convey it in an ultra-confident manner. Now, I don't want anyone to get the impression that we don't go ask someone if we don't know; we do, and I hope I do for the rest of my career. But it is just funny because you put on these professional white coats and have your stethoscope and people come up to you and ask you about cholesterol or something and you think,"Dang! Thank God I just reviewed that this morning, otherwise I'd really not know what to say!"
So, overall good day, fun stuff, and I am feeling very nurse practitioner-y tonight.
I started out the morning at the Urology station, shadowing a dickens of a doctor, who told me, upon meeting him, that he was "One hundred and forty years old!" and proclaimed his profession to be "plumber", when asked if he was a doctor! He was an absolute hoot! Anyone who knows me knows my odd affinity for all people old, and I wanted to just put him in my pocket and take him home with me, he was so adorable! He was talking about his history, speaking in a mellow Irish brogue, reciting his tales of med school and training. He has been in the states for years, but grew up and received training in Dublin and London, and came here with his family many years ago.
His favorite thing to talk about was urology jokes. Definitely inapprops, and most likely offensive to at least half of the general populace, but coming from him, it just made one laugh. He really liked one about a Polish urologist: "You know how doctors do a rectal exam of your prostate with just one finger? Well, there was this Polish urologist. And another doctor was with him one day, and noticed that the Polish urologist was doing an exam with two fingers, instead of the customary one. So he asked him about it. The Polish doctor answered, 'I do it with two...one to do the exam, the other to give a second opinion!'" Laughing ensues:) Then he asked us if we had ever heard of the 'pasteurized' diet. No, we answered, you mean like milk and stuff? "Oh no", he says, and winks at me. "You just watch the food go past-your-eyes!!" Hahaha. So stinkin adorable, I almost couldn't take it. We talked about pelvic floor exercises and stress incontinence (peeing your pants when laughing/coughing/etc) and other such delightful subjects. I loved working with him!
Then it was time to rotate out. Giti and I went out to the registration table, the table that pretty much determined the flow of the whole room. It was our turn to direct things. And by direct, I mean, collate some papers and give them to people to sign. The funny thing was, by this time, I was getting low blood sugar cause I hadn't eaten in a few hours, and was starting to see everything as quite funny. Giti seemed to be similarly affected, so that didn't really bode well for the professionalism aspect that we are supposed to portray as NPs.
So we receive a quick tutorial from some fellow students, and sit down to see what we can do. Which turns out to be, not much. Anything beyond putting intake papers on a clipboard and telling people to bring back the pens seemed to be totally beyond us. If someone asked us a question about anything but that, we'd look at each other, and feel like saying, "Yeah. Between the two of us we have about five advanced degrees. But we're doing the papers. So we're gonna go ahead and direct you to that person over there who most likely knows as little as we do, but will make up an answer for you. Have a lovely day." No, we didn't say that, but we sure as hell felt like it. We'd send people to the blood pressure table, thinking, "Riiiiiiggghhhht. Why don't you just go over there to (whomever-insert classmate's name here), and she'll hook you up with a reeeeaal nice blood pressure. Yeah, I know a guy. You want a good pressure? Something to lower your rates for the insurance company? Yeah, just go see my friend over there. She'll take care of you good..." said in best imitation mob member voice.
We were laughing so hard that at one point I had tears rolling down my face and was gasping for air. And I was not unobtrusive at all, which made it worse. We got to the point of saying the same thing over and over, "Hi! Welcome. Just fill out all your information on the white part, sign here by the x, then (turning to next page), sign your name here and date. Then bring back the clipboard and pen, and we'll direct you where to go next!" and maybe it was the repetitiveness of it or something, but Giti was rolling through the schpeal and I lost it. I bent over and 'pretended' to be looking for some papers under the table but was really silently laughing so hard I almost peed my pants. And then I hear Giti losing it as she explains things to a client, which is NOT good, and when she is done, she gets up and excuses herself. She has to leave the room she is laughing so hard. We physically could not even look at each other without losing it.
I have this bad feeling that someday, I'll get attacked with the giggles at an inapprops time, which honestly, happens to me more than it should, and a patient will think I'm laughing at them. Like, someone comes in to see me, and I am reviewing the results of their bloodwork with them, and it turns out that they are positive for tumor markers and their MRI shows a mass and the biopsy came back positive, and I have to tell them they have cancer. And I look up at them, and start laughing. Deep, trembling belly laughs. Totally inappropriate laughing. And I can't stop. I just can't stop. I would probably be the person who laughs at a funeral, even though inside I might be devastated and weeping and missing the person so badly, outside, something would strike me as funny and I'd be off. I really need to work on this.
So when we came back from lunch, I was doing blood pressures, which morphed into health counseling, and I found myself spewing out info about cholesterol levels, BMI, blood pressure, etc. and I had no idea where it was coming from. Turns out I know a little more than I generally think I do. But I often feel like I know just a wee bit more than a patient, and think, "Wow, if you really knew that I am desperately searching my mind for this info, and I'm pretty sure I know it, but maybe I don't, I don't know..." but having to appear completely confident on the outside, it makes me think of what my friend Ash says about it. Seeing as we are all new nurses, she said that her first few months on the job felt like it was all smoke and mirrors...you say something to the patient which you are mostly sure about, but you have to convey it in an ultra-confident manner. Now, I don't want anyone to get the impression that we don't go ask someone if we don't know; we do, and I hope I do for the rest of my career. But it is just funny because you put on these professional white coats and have your stethoscope and people come up to you and ask you about cholesterol or something and you think,"Dang! Thank God I just reviewed that this morning, otherwise I'd really not know what to say!"
So, overall good day, fun stuff, and I am feeling very nurse practitioner-y tonight.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Fallishness
I was talking to my mother this morning, receiving the requisite advice about life in general, walking through the streets of NYC, and just generally feeling very happy. I have to be honest, and I know my California friends will absolutely boo this thought, but I'm not so thrilled about the 73 weather...I think fall should feel and look like fall...although I'm sure after a few days of freezing-ness, I'll be complaining about that too!
But talking to my mom suddenly shifted me back many years, to the great Wisconsin falls, and split pea soup. I can close my eyes and picture exactly a scene that took place, and repeated itself, many many years ago. My mom always made delicious, thick, split pea soup which we garnished with yummy croutons, and I'd sit at the kitchen table, looking out our windows and seeing that characteristic fall sky, nearly-leafless trees waving gently in the late afternoon breeze. The soup would be bubbling on the stove, mom and I both starving, but waiting for dad to get home from work so we could dive in to the green goodness. I can still smell and taste it! I told my mom this, and she told me that she was washing dishes this morning and suddenly flashed back to when I was a little girl, probably no more than three or four, helping my dad with the dishes. There is a picture of me, standing on a chair next to the sink, a towel tied around my waist, and 'helping' dad wash and dry our supper dishes. I've always loved doing the dishes, except for a brief stint of hating them in high school, so I guess this love came early. As far as I remember, I think I used to ask to help do the dishes...weird kid that I was!
It feels nice to take a few minutes to sit down and write something; it feels like forever. My days have been absorbed with studying for the recent slew of tests, studying that I am fervently praying paid off. Grad school is tough, but I love what I'm learning, even if, as my friend Kathleen pointed out, it often feels disorganized at best, and we have to reconcile ourselves to the fact that we will mostly be teaching ourselves. But, for what its worth, I am so thankful to God for the opportunity. The sucky thing though is not keeping in better touch with friends that I have around the country...those of you I owe calls to, please know I love you and always will, and we'll talk soon!
My birthday this year was indescribably fabulous, and I wake up each day, astonished at the blessings that the Lord has seen fit to give me, from amazing, irreplaceable friends, to a cozy apartment, to enough (but just barely enough) money in the bank acct, to loving parents, to a great Kitty! Life is not always easy; ha, who am I kidding? It is never easy; but God has given all of us blessings, every day, and I pray that we are all able, no matter where we are or what circumstances we find ourselves in, be able to have the eyes to see them. "Every good and perfect gift comes from the Father above", and what an incredible Father He is.
But talking to my mom suddenly shifted me back many years, to the great Wisconsin falls, and split pea soup. I can close my eyes and picture exactly a scene that took place, and repeated itself, many many years ago. My mom always made delicious, thick, split pea soup which we garnished with yummy croutons, and I'd sit at the kitchen table, looking out our windows and seeing that characteristic fall sky, nearly-leafless trees waving gently in the late afternoon breeze. The soup would be bubbling on the stove, mom and I both starving, but waiting for dad to get home from work so we could dive in to the green goodness. I can still smell and taste it! I told my mom this, and she told me that she was washing dishes this morning and suddenly flashed back to when I was a little girl, probably no more than three or four, helping my dad with the dishes. There is a picture of me, standing on a chair next to the sink, a towel tied around my waist, and 'helping' dad wash and dry our supper dishes. I've always loved doing the dishes, except for a brief stint of hating them in high school, so I guess this love came early. As far as I remember, I think I used to ask to help do the dishes...weird kid that I was!
It feels nice to take a few minutes to sit down and write something; it feels like forever. My days have been absorbed with studying for the recent slew of tests, studying that I am fervently praying paid off. Grad school is tough, but I love what I'm learning, even if, as my friend Kathleen pointed out, it often feels disorganized at best, and we have to reconcile ourselves to the fact that we will mostly be teaching ourselves. But, for what its worth, I am so thankful to God for the opportunity. The sucky thing though is not keeping in better touch with friends that I have around the country...those of you I owe calls to, please know I love you and always will, and we'll talk soon!
My birthday this year was indescribably fabulous, and I wake up each day, astonished at the blessings that the Lord has seen fit to give me, from amazing, irreplaceable friends, to a cozy apartment, to enough (but just barely enough) money in the bank acct, to loving parents, to a great Kitty! Life is not always easy; ha, who am I kidding? It is never easy; but God has given all of us blessings, every day, and I pray that we are all able, no matter where we are or what circumstances we find ourselves in, be able to have the eyes to see them. "Every good and perfect gift comes from the Father above", and what an incredible Father He is.
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