Scared

On some level, I think that I am always scared. At least a little bit scared. I am scared of not being able to pay my bills, so I go to work. I am scared of running out of food, so I go to the grocery store. I am scared that the animals and children will go hungry, so I make sure they are fed. I think this is almost like a tension that exists in my life, in every one's life.
So, being a bit scared can be a good thing. I think that I am starting to be able to figure some things out. I am more aware of what I am deeply scared of. I have also stopped being scared of many things. Here is an incomplete list of things I am NOT scared of:
I am not scared of loosing friends.
I am not scared of being judged.
I am not scared of being humiliated.
I am not scared of speaking up.
I am not scared of sharing love.
I am not scared of receiving love.
I am not scared of standing for Justice.
I am not scared of being excluded.

The reason I am not scared of these things is simple. I remain scared of something bigger than all of that.

I am scared of stopping short of the woman I am supposed to be.

A mission

I had the most interesting talk with a new doctor last night. We were discussing the 'state' of health care in our country. Insurance companies, lobbyists, corporations, institutions. It is enough to drive a health care provider crazy. At the end of the conversation, I said "Sometimes, I wonder why I ever became a nurse." His response surprised me, and I am not easily surprised. He said something like "When you start questioning what you are doing, it is time to do what I did. I went on a mission to the Himalayans and reminded myself why I became a doctor." He said it was hard, but it made him so thankful to be able to help others. In the mountains of India, there are no insurance companies, forms or all of the other things that get between a doctor and a patient. There are just people needing help and people willing to give it.
I have been asked to participate in a medical mission to Vietnam next year. I was initially excited about the opportunity to go to a place where my father served in the army. Then, reality set in. I can't afford the thousands of dollars for the trip. And quite frankly, I hate asking for any help. Yet, something is playing in the back of my mind. Is it possible for me to do this? Is this something that I am supposed to do? Could I find the money, earn the money or be given money? Could I possibly just simply ask for help?
I don't ask for help well, and I probably do an even worse job of accepting it. I was raised with the whole 'pull yourself up by your bootstraps' thing.
It would be an honor and privilege to go on a mission and serve the greater good in another country. I am seriously considering trying to make a go of this. If I do, I'll have to let people know that I need help, money and lots of prayers.
Was this doctor just making an off the wall comment, or was he challenging me to take on a mission? Who the heck knows? We'll see.

Ayla's quote

This quote is from last book of the Clan of the Cave Bear series. It is my favorite one, and it rang so true for me.
"She had never asked, she had always been chosen, and for each acceptance she bore a mark, a scar that she would carry always. It was the sacrifice she'd had to make. Now she was being chosen again. She could still decline, but if she didn't refuse now, she was committed for life. It crossed her mind that the scars would always remind her that there were consequences to being chosen, responsibilities that came with acceptance."
page 610, The land of the Painted Caves, by Jean M. Auel

Writer's block

I guess one of the reasons I have not posted in awhile is simple. I don't feel like I can say what I really, really want to. Therefore, I say nothing. It sounds a bit childish, and there is a pretty long story behind all of this. Yet, right now, I am in no man's land. I have learned a very hard lesson lately. When I put some of my thoughts out to the world, people can use them. They can use them as a part of their own story, building relationships. Or, people can use my words to malign, humiliate or shame me.
This is a bit of a stumbling block for me right now, and I am trying to noodle my way through this one. I think the hardest part for me is simple, I cannot control what people will do with my words. I can simply try to remain true to my own story, and not be afraid to speak up. I don't like acting out of fear, or desperation.
One thing is certain, I love it when I hear people tell me how my writing has touched them. I learned, recently, that someone has one of my posts up on her refrigerator. That makes me so grateful for the risks that I have taken here, and lucky to be a part of another person's story.
So, forgive me while I pout for a little while. I've gotten my feelings hurt. One thing I have learned for sure: I will never, ever, ever quit telling my story. I want my kids and other people to know one thing about me. I have absolutely NO shame in who I am, or where I come from. I am simply a human being on a journey. My journey, no body else's. I may share it with you by publishing a blog, but I will not give it to you. It is not yours to take.

A hole in my heart

I went to a memorial service for a friend who lost her baby today. It was a hard thing to fathom. A loss: so close, yet so far away from delivery. I was caught off guard by my flow of emotions. I just couldn't stop crying. I looked at a friend and confessed my overwhelming emotions. She said something to me that I have struggled with for a long time. She said that something about becoming a parent leaves a hole in your heart. It makes it so easy to hurt for others, especially children. I think that sometimes, we forget about this hole in our hearts. I think that sometimes we try to hide it, or close it. I think sometimes we try to pretend it isn't there. It can just hurt too much.
I remember times in my life where I have tried to hide that hole. I also recognizes those times when I made a decision. I have made several, very conscious, decisions to open my heart. I have quit jobs, moved away and left communities in order to protect this hole. I have managed to find a way to protect it, honor it and even love it. I want to keep the ability to cry, laugh, mourn and dance. I want to be present to those things that make me a mother. Being a mom is what I do. It is (BY FAR) the hardest thing I have ever done. I work hard at it, and it leaves me tired, grumpy and sleepy most days. It leaves me wondering, wishing, pondering.
Those were words of wisdom I heard today. I have never been able to explain it, but there it is. A very simple comment by a very good friend. Yes, I walk through this world with a hole in my heart.

Why?

Seven years ago today, my grandmother died. It was, by far, one of the hardest periods of my life. I helped care for her in the last years of her life, more so in the final months as we brought in hospice care. I was also in the last semester of nursing school. Gaga died on a Sunday. I took one final exam on Monday. We had the funeral on Tuesday. On Wednesday I took my other final exam. Needless to say, I was completely overwhelmed.

I think with all of the hard parts, difficult decisions and grief, I got caught up in things. I tend to look back at all of the mistakes I made. I would of, could of, should of. I wish I had been nicer to my grandmother. I regret any words that sounded harsh.

Last week, I was cleaning out a book case and found one of Gaga's many journals. I turned a page and found this quote:
"WHY? Why are Harrietta, Steve and Melissa so good to me?"

I was able to hear a big thank you from my grandmother 7 years later. Wow. As my tears flowed, I started thinking about all of the good times. I remembered the deep love that Gaga had for me and my family. She never would have remembered, or focused on any of the bad times. She just didn't have it in her to judge people harshly for anything. Everyone deserves someone like that in their lives. I am very grateful to have a reminder that I had one play a large role in my life. Somehow, I think she still plays a role in my life and always will.

Conflict

I'm going to tell a story that happened a long time ago. It was back in the 90's when I was running ambulance calls. One day, my partner and I responded to a call and transported an elderly lady to the ED. When we found the patient, she was not breathing adequately and needed to be intubated with an endotracheal tube (e.t.). When the tube is placed inside the trachea, we can fill the lungs with life-saving oxygen. Sometimes, the tube gets shifted and ends up in the patient's stomach. When that happens, the patient does not get oxygen to the lungs. This can lead to disaster. On this particular call, we had placed the tube correctly in the back of the ambulance. I watched my patient turn from blue and listless, to pink and looking around. Upon arrival at the ED, something happened and the patient began turning blue. I suggested to the nurse that the tube was out of place, and they needed to confirm it. Typically, this is done very easily with a stethoscope and the doctor actually placing his hands on the patient. However, this doctor decided to defer to an xray and we had to wait several minutes for the xray to be done. In the meantime, the patient continued turning blue, and her stomach appeared to be filling with air. I went back to the nurse and begged her to ask the doctor to do something. She just looked at me and said 'we are waiting on the xray'. Not wanting to have a conflict, I just walked away. She wasn't my patient any more. After a little while, I walked back in to find that this patient had died. I watched the doctor bring her husband to the hall and stand outside the door. He said something like "I'm sorry, but your wife died. There was nothing we could do." He then turned and walked away. That man had been married to that woman for over 60 years. This was how it ended for him. It was all so cruel and unnecessary. I walked out of that ED feeling the full impact of my decision to avoid conflict. I have spent almost every day of my life wondering what might have happened if I had decided to confront the doctor. I watched someone die because I wanted to avoid conflict. I, honestly, think a part of me has been confronting people and seeking conflict since then. I guess I have been trying to make up for what I didn't do so long ago. I share this story hoping that people will have a little more understanding for me. I am hoping that people will show me a little grace and compassion. No one should have to live with watching someone die. But, I do.