aseaofcadence

[aseaofcadence]

Flying through Invisible skies

A story plot I thought of staring out of a plane window on my trip to Virginia

"OW!" What the heck was that? Something just clipped my ankle while I was flying south going home. I didn't see anything around and I haven't crashed into a bird since I was 13. I then heard an "ugh" and froze. Was that, a groan? Did something...someone... just groan? I've always wondered if there were other people in the skies. But in my 8 years of being invisible, I have never encountered another person while flying. I mean it makes sense, the skies are vast and the odds of two invisible entities crashing into each other are slim to none. But I definitely heard something just make a sound of discomfort. Feeling a bit silly I said, "Uhh hello? Is someone there?" Then something that has never happened to me before, something that I gave up believing would ever happen, happened. He responded with "Sorry I didn't see you there."

On my twelfth birthday, I started to feel coolness and tingling in my finger tips. Mama and papa always woke me up in the same way every birthday. Papa drumming on his chest super fast and off beat, while mama sang Happy Birthday, opera style in various keys. The whole spectacle concluded with them jumping on my bed until I got up and joined them. Cammy, who was seven at that time, ran in and climbed onto my bed and the four of us would jump until we were winded from the giggling. I didn't notice it that morning but the small finger tips underneath my short nails started to disappear.

After breakfast the four of us piled into the car and drove to a pumpkin patch in Gilroy. We spent time taking silly pictures, drinking warm apple cider and picking out the bumpiest pumpkins to take home and carve that night.

"Mom my fingers are cold."

"I think papa has some gloves in the car but we should be going home soon. Did you pick out your pumpkin yet?"

I ran back a couple of rows to where I saw this oval long pumpkin that had a curved stem. I wanted to carve it into the shape of Mr potato head from toy story. When I reached down to pick it up, I couldn't feel the texture of pumpkin, just the pressure on my fingertips. It was similar to the numbing feeling on my lips at the dentist after I got my cavity filled. I could feel the pressure of the pumpkin but not the temperature of the texture of it. I looked down to notice that all five of my fingertips were see through. My heart started to race and my ears started to ring. I dropped the pumpkin and it heavily landed on my foot. Looking back I wasn't sure if it was the disorienting view of my finger tips or the pain in my foot that caused the choking sobs. I saw mama walk towards me having seen the whole thing and kneel to give me a hug, I think she signaled to papa because he put the pumpkin I chose into the wagon, grabbed cammys hand and went to the worker dressed like a scarecrow to check out. Mama couldn't calm me down and she started to get distressed because it was really abnormal for a 12 year old to be crying this much in public. She ended up picking me and carrying me to the car.

I couldn't get a word to her because the ringing in my ears was so loud and as she carried me, I caught sight of my finger tips again and the panic and sobs intensified. She placed me in the car and was trying to inspect my foot to see if it had broken. After stowing away the pumpkins in the trunk papa came around to buckle Cammy into her booster seat. Mama was starting to worry when I heard her look at papa through the back seat of the car and say "do you think she broke it? It doesn't seem broken but she's crying so much." Mama was a NICU nurse, who worked at a childrens hosptial nearby. She worked there four days a week and cared for really sick babies. Her assessment was right, at this point, there was no pain in my foot but just pure panic inside of me. I couldn't speak, but through watery eyes, rapid panting and the loud wailing, I showed my mom my hands. I raised them to her face and watched her eyes widen. She cursed and held my palms in her hand turning them in all directions as if in a different light, she would see something different.

The ringing in my ears started again. Seeing her panic and mouth words to papa, I began to cry even harder. She climbed into the back seat and cradled me, rocking me back and forth, like I was the same age as my baby sister.

I didn't have many friends in school. I was usually caught reading harry potter during recess and didn't really like to talk to adults unless I had to. Home was the only place I felt like I could be myself. I would read books with mama and have swords fights with papa and when Cammy was old enough we would pretend we were wizards together. Mostly I treated her like my house-elf and would dangle socks in front of her and run away on a broom so she couldn't be free. At the beginning of middle school, I realized I wasn't interested in acrylic nails and tik tok dances like the other girls, so I usually just kept to myself. I was contempt with going through school unnoticed.

After my birthday, Mama and papa were in a panic. I must have passed out from or had a breakdown because when I woke I was in my bed. Mama knew that this wasn't anything medical. I heard her crying with papa downstairs in the kitchen. "She can't see a doctor about this Theo, there is nothing in the history of syndromes and diseases that cause disappearing digits. If we took her to the hospital, we don't know what they would do. They might take her and we could loose her." That night mama slept in my bed with me while papa slept on the floor of my room and the depth of quiet that surrounded the darkness also grew in my soul.

By the end of October my hands and my feet were completely invisible. In the next coming months, the numbness, tingling then invisibility grew. At school it was easy to hid my limbs with shoes or gloves. My mom sent me to school with a note saying I had a severe case of eczema and that I had to keep my skin covered at all times. No one really questioned it and as time went on I stopped thinking that they would. Mama and papa could feel my body parts and feel the warmth but they could not see anything. In return I could feel pressure but no warmth or texture really.

At the end of school year most of my limbs weren't visible anymore and my pelvis was starting to disappear. At home I looked like a floating pair of shorts shirt and a head. As summer was approaching, it was hard going to school wearing long sleeves, high socks and gloves all the time. That summer we stayed inside. Although papa would take Cammy out to some play dates with her friends. I mainly stayed home so I wouldn't have to cover up outside during a California summer.

One morning during breakfast mama announced that she was going to switch to evenings at her work so she can homeschool me during the day time. We all knew that just in a few months, I would be completely invisible and there was no way a pair of floating clothes could register for her 7th grade classes. Mama took courses online and learned how to homeschool me while papa took Cammy to school everyday. That summer we moved to a different neighborhood, closer to the pumpkin patch we no longer visited on my birthdays. The Tay's then became a three person household and the carefree childhood I remembered faded along with me.

Mama became tired very easily homeschooling me during the day and working in the evenings. She would miss putting Cammy and I to bed so papa would cook dinner and get us ready every night. I never asked mama and papa why this was happening to me. It was clear from the repeated nights of hearing my parents cry that they didn't know. So I tried not to burden them even more. I learned how to silence my cries at night as I hugged my pink hippo to sleep. I would press her into my chest so hard, hopping that would stop it from hurting.

In September of that year, I spent the last days before turning 13, trying to memorize my face. My eyes hooded and a boring dull brown color, sat beside my wide flat bridged nose. The paleness of my skin accentuated the flatness of my face and the only color or dimension it had were my full lips shining a gentle mauve color. My dark black hair hung past my shoulders, completely straight with no character or volume, was parted in the middle exposing my large forehead.

On the 20th of October my birthday started off unlike all the other ones. Mama and papa cracked my door open and it creaked as they entered in silence. I heard papa whisper, "Izzie, are you there?"

[aseaofcadence]

a painful memory

The time I was asked to pay rent.

I was 15 years old. I was the youngest lifeguard in my class and I studied harder for this test than I ever did actual school. The instructor (Romeo) singled me out because I was the youngest in the class and I got the highest score. This was after one season of swim team where I actually learned how to swim. From going to not even knowing what freestyle was, to always swimming in lane one (close to the wall), to being the best lifeguard graduate of our class of ... a whopping 10 people. I think I was a little high on myself to be completely honest.

I came back home from work one day and my dad was in the kitchen, wearing a white holy tshirt, he stoped me after I closed the front door. It was night time and I had no idea where my sister was and to be frank, I couldn't remember if she was still living with us. But my dad had told me he needed help paying the rent. That I needed to pay 200$ a month to him to help with the house and other costs. Of course in 2023.. 200$ is nothing but to a newly employed 15 year old who only made 8.25$ an hr, that was almost my whole months wages.

I was really angry. I was beyond angry. I don't think I've ever lashed out at my dad like that before. I always suffered in pain in my own room ever since they got divorced. But this was new low we had hit as a family of 2..maybe 3. I told him that I couldn't believe that he was asking me this. I told him how I NEVER ask him for anything anymore. That I got a boyfriend to buy me my first clunker car for 900$ and I paid for insurance myself. How I paid for gas to get myself to school. How I paid for food to eat, the clothes I wore, the things I did. How every time I wanted to got to a christian bible camp I paid for it myself, how I paid for my own volleyball shoes so I wouldn't stick out not matching the team, how I never asked for the school supplies I needed on top of the donated ones we got from a charity. But now he was asking me to help him with his responsibilities. I screamed at him saying that I shouldn't have to deal with this. That he should be able to at least keep a roof over my head and running water. (later I find out that for low income housing the rent changes proportionate to your income, its always just 30% of your monthly income, and that water... was free). I cried so hard telling him how he was inadequate as a father to provide for me and that as a kid I shouldn't have this on my shoulders. I already had so much on them already. He cried with me. He said he was so sorry that he didn't want his baby girl crying over this. He rubbed my shoulders because I was sobbing. But I still, in the end had to pay because I was scared to be homeless. So I worked harder. I worked every other day, sometimes 12 hours on Saturdays and more in the summer on top of school and all the sports I was in. He never asked me for anything again.

Looking back I think this was a very pivotal point in my life. It solidified the thought that I earned everything I wanted, needed or had. At the youngest age I could provide for myself, I did. This is where all of the pride steps in. Where pride rears its ugly head as a 31 year old. Somehow it's easier to compare because I had it real rough but I worked my way out. Where I feel like if I want something I must work hard to get it and that I don't need anyone to help me get there. All I need is myself.

Being married gave me good lighting to see better. Knowing Christ deeply gave me the glasses to see the situation sharper. I DID NOTHING. I was handed these opportunities. I couldn't have brought myself to this situation if my sister didn't drop me off at church every sunday and my dad pick me up afterwards. I couldn't have gotten that car to drive to work unless Simon bought it for me. I was chosen. I was given. I was blessed. God aligned everything so perfectly in my situation, all I realllly did was walk, or better, stumbled my way through all the adversity. All the while I was a whiny child.

I realize how hard it must have been being a father to ask your daughter this. (I'm sure he asked my sister as well, so i guess two daughters) How degrading to a mans pride it must have been to have to confess inadvertently that he couldn't provide for his family. That lay off after lay off he once again felt the sense of inadequacy. How he realized he was bad at money and finances. How he was a king back in his country and now here he was instead a beggar. To have fallen so far and to realize it must have been devastating. To top it all off, my mom never paid child support because she said my dad wouldn't use it for me specifically, that he would just use it for himself. The only way I could get the money from her was to come to her house and she would buy me anything I needed because she knew it was going to me. When she visited our home while my dad was at work, she downturned her nose and criticized the shithole we were living in. Never offering to make a difference.

God, I pray so fervently that Indie will never have to experience the pain I felt as a child. The pain where I knew that my own father could not provide or care for me. I hope she never has to feel the need to be less of a burden or feel guilty for asking for something. I hope she feels safe and cared for. I hope she never has to feel like she wishes she was never born because she's such a burden to her parent/parents. Because thats how I felt. Thats how I saw myself. An unworthy burden.

[aseaofcadence]

8 years later...

I'm a nurse, married, and a mom.

Life is fickle. I really wanted to blog some thoughts out and started to research blogging sites when I forgot that I had a tumblr. It is pretty apparent how much I changed. Even now I can detect small wisps of arrogance and pride buried beneath unapologetic passion. I was a dichotomous soul. Always ranting about something that made me angry, judgements on others and then pleading to God for ignorant Holy Spirit solutions. I remember that girl faintly. She was headstrong as well as pigheaded. She loved hard and was relentlessly tunneled visioned about things she was sure about. She feels familiar but very unfamiliar. Not like a scent so strong it triggers a distant memory but maybe like knowing everything about a certain celebrity you were obsessed with as a teenager without actually know them.

Anyways I'm rekindling this old dying form of expression because I need a space jot down things I don't want to forget. Memories that are strong so that I am able to recall them in the right light. Thoughts that I can regurgitate because they really are revealings of the Holy Spirit in my life. Feelings that I'm unable to pilfer through as they stay abstract and convoluted in my head.

So to my long time follower, to my old self, to no one really... I'm 31 years old now. I married that young boy who didn't give me material gifts but gave me eternal treasures. He fathered my beautiful daughter Indie Haven Tay just a short 14 weeks ago. God did call me into phase of worship that I was praying for in all those previous posts. But I really wasn't ready for what God had in store for me. So heres to a beginning.

(I always ended with a prayer to God so..)

God, you are still soo soo good. My view of you is so much more complex and deep. In some ways it seems like I've lost that childlike lens which is sad but in other ways I feel like our relationship is real, solid and built on something other than emotion. Thank you for, just in the right timing (as always), bringing me back to a past that I can honestly enjoy knowing again. I don't want people tainting my memories, even thought they are in them. I want to celebrate the time in my life when they were good, before it turned bad. I want to explore the heart you have refined over these 8 years and learn more about this newest creation in me. Thank you that you are the same. You never left me. You always were for me and here you are again beside me listening. love you.

-Amen

[aseaofcadence]

Where am I?

It's been 11 months since my last post. For a while there I was writing in my prayer book, but that stopped after a few months. After reading what I wrote previously I’m shocked at how far I’ve drifted. Where was that brave girl willing to give her nursing career up for the sake of Gods name being praised? I was ready to jump off a cliff into deep dark waters, completely confident that God was all I needed for breathing.  Within a year I have come so far away from the ledge that I can’t even see the horizon anymore. What happened?

My heart is timid, scared, fearful, and… insecure. My head keeps telling me not to mess up and that I’m not good enough. That I shouldn’t be on stage with these professionals pretending like I can keep up. My thoughts are clouded with the approval of man. God… where is my confidence in you? I have forgotten how much you love me and how you gave your son to die for me. Where has my identity in you go? God I miss who I was back in school…. Completely relying on you not knowing what the next semester holds but being perfectly okay with it. Even through rough patches I could still worship… I would worship because its where I found peace. But now, I’m solid as a stone. I can’t feel and I hate myself. I’m in this viscous cycle of sin, disgusted with myself and always feeling unworthy but I never make the next step towards you to repent and have joy. God… where is my joy?

 I remember a time I used to pray to be a good partner to Tim. Now my temper is short and I have less no humility. God loosing Aunty Mercy… is probably the hardest thing that Tim has ever been through. The first week was really tough and I couldn’t wrap my head around anything. Both of us were caught in our own ways of mourning through anger and sorrow. We didn’t know how to be there for each other because we both were hurting. Never did we seek your presence or peace like we should have. I knew that I couldn’t help him in the way he needed. I knew that he only needed You. I know I needed you and I still do. We visited her grave this Sunday before her memorial service… Tim just kept telling me how much he misses her and I feel so helpless. He crys and I can’t even bare to be there for him because I don’t know how. This season of my life is so hard to understand. My heart breaks every time I hear uncle George talk about Aunty Mercy like she’s still there. I can’t be in the huge kitchen… where she used to tell me what to do.. guide me and tell me all her family secrets like I was her own. God.. my only chance.. to have another mom.. a mom who didn’t passive aggressively push me to do things. A mom who knew you and could guide me the way I should be guided. A family that was created in your image… was mine for such a short time. And I was upset that it’s not there anymore..The impact she had.. was so.. crazy. She touched every life she encountered with your presence. She was loved by so many. I want her back. Its selfish for me to say especially since she was suffering on this earth every day. I just wish we had a little more time.

 God, I’m a shy completely insecure daughter of yours. My thoughts are perverted, I’m selfish and I have no idea how to worship anymore. I don’t know where to start and I don’t know how. All I know is that I need you more now than ever. My state of stagnant, sinful, joyless nature is killing me. Please pull me from the depths of this forest and pull me back to that ledge. Push me if you have to, use me in every way that glorifies your name. Give me the confidence of your son Jesus. Help me love like no other. I pray for divine intervention. Help Timothy become a strong man of God. Bless our relationship to honor you. Give us strength to live for your name.

[aseaofcadence]

Have you ever felt passion. I mean, serious passion. I mean when I worship my mind, my heart and soul is quenched. Without it i'm not the person i want to to be. I know I'm not good at singing, but my heart yearns to worship. 

GOD my cry is to build a worship ministry. Its crazy, considering the state of our church and the state of my heart. But it only takes one prayer right? GOD my cry is to worship. Its to move nations in your name. Its to worry, to pray for something worthy. Where are you taking me God? Where am I now? IS this there you would like me to be for now? because in my stagnant school life, i'm going nuts. It brings me no happiness and only makes me realize I want You. But you must be calling me to stay here and be patient. Get this part of my life over with. If not please open a door for me, guide me through it and lead me to where you'd like me to be. I have faith God, but i'm yearning for more of you. 

[aseaofcadence]

Haven't Blogged in A while

Just  had to rant a bit.

First off, when will people realize that these articles on buzzfeed, the find your soul mate books, and the "is He the right one" articles are all based off of one thing. I'm so tired of secular journalists taking credit when it doesn't belong to them. Lets be honest, all these ideas of finding the "keeper" were written 1,500 some odd years ago in a book called the bible. Yes there are verses about wives submitting to their husbands but everyone conveniently leaves out the fact that their husbands are supposed to be doing whats best for their wives and family. It's a trust issue really, if you honestly were one with your partner, you could offer all you have and trust he will make the right decision. (which means accounting your opinion) Its hard yes for 21 century women who want to be Independent and strong but what are these two characteristics without humility. Being humble and submitting even though a girl can be independent is much more attractive  than a pompous and proud girl. A woman who knows her worth without having to validate it with the constant alpha female attitude is something I admire.  Yes I'm being baised since I'm a Christian and only believe that the "keepers" are the ones who TRULY follow God but its realllllly funny how all these "professionals" are figuring out the same thing. 

Secondly its sooo.... ironically funny how there are commercials about sleeping aides. Being a nurse yes, I do acknowledge that there are people who do have serious sleeping problems but they're not the ones using them. It probably never occurred to people that our bodies weren't built to stay up 20 hours a day with only 4 hours of sleep. Yet people like to go out, play games, and party until their sleeping schedules become crazy. So at work they start drinking coffee to keep awake and once a tolerance builds more and more is consumed on a daily and weekly basis. All the while eating unhealthy foods that have 0 energy to keep them full. After feeling like crap from the fatty foods and then drinking more coffee to stay awake they're having trouble sleeping at night. Which conveniently can be achieved with a sleeping aide. Lets be real, our bodies were, since the dawn of human existence, programmed perfectly to survive without any external aides. I'm not saying that everyone should be boring and not go out, but i'm just commenting on the fact that people should think about their lifestyle before wondering why they're so tired all the time and why they're having trouble sleeping at night. 

:/ I know i'm being judgmental but its just what has been going on through my head lately. I've just been starting to hate this world more and more. All the things of it and in it. Yes I'm totally a hypocrite because I like to go shopping, indulge in fatty foods and stay up late, but hopefully my habits will start to change and i'll begin living for my Father in Heaven. 

[aseaofcadence]

This is my prayer

Sitting in the car this morning on the way to school and I was just ravished with Gods love. After a week of heaviness I'm back able to worship and love God in ways I can't even imagine. A burden was put on my heart to be able to follow God with no regards for anything but bringing Him glory. 

I look at the world today and I see destruction, hopelessness and perverted aspects have entered the daily norm. From this all I see is that the devils trying to sway as many people as he can. hes trying to get as many followers he can before the second coming. 

On the other hand, followers are breaking out, revival is starting in churches. God is working in all His glorious ways to gather is followers. And call me ignorant and dogmatic but this is all I care about. Bringing Glory to His name and making Him famous on this Earth. Equipping people to know of a Love that saves. 

God this is my prayer,

I'm ready. I was scared before but I'm not anymore. I want to give everything up, I want to untie all worldy things and focus on You. All that I do I just want to bring your name Glory. i want to be in the forefront of a movement that brings you glory. To live a life and not worry about the money for my family or concerning myself with what is not ever lasting. Daily I want to serve you and fulfill your calling for me. Please let me know your will. let me know what I can do to serve you. I'm not scared anymore, I'm not cowering from your call like I have before. I'm asking for you to ravish me heart and soul. You have molded, shaped and stripped me and I don't want to have it any other way. Things are changing on this earth, war and hatred are on the rise, destruction and perversion is common. But on the other hand believers are rising staying strong and holding fast to your word. Revivals are breaking out and churches are changing. With that we are being persecuted more and more but I want to forget all of that and focus son what you want God. I pray all this because I love you and realize that this life is fleeting. I want to bring glory to your name and make you famous on this earth.

This is my prayer, my request

my burden and dream, 

I pray all this In your name,

Amen 

[aseaofcadence]

Disney Thoughts:

Lessons the Disney Princesses teach us that don’t involve men, love, or beauty.

I made this post because I am tired of seeing people bash the princesses because they only serve as love interests and think that they show women that a woman’s purpose is to be submissive to men, or that beauty is the only thing that matters in a woman.

All of the Princesses had personalities and lives without their Princes, and on their own, they are able to teach girls several other important lessons about life in general. These are all characters, and whether or not you believe that because they are love interests that that reduces their character, they still have some sort of trait that is valuable to have for any woman, in love or not. 

And before anyone can argue Ariel’s character or lesson, I want to point out that her dream was to be a human, and it was her dream long before she laid eyes on Eric. Eric was just an another incentive for her to become human. While the lesson she teaches might be the only one based on rash and poor decisions, it’s important to point out she learns her own lesson. She see the consequences of her actions, and apologizes and fights to make things right. That is one of her valuable traits.

Let’s Get Down to Business

[aseaofcadence]

"religious"

Lets keep in mind that my dad is a Roman catholic and my mom is a Buddhist. 

I definitely respect all religions and all people following them. I haven't really said anything before about it because I didn't know much. I guess I wanted to avoid being dogmatic and ignorant but I have so much more faith now. After reading and taking so many religious courses. I think I have the gist of what others believe in.

Having said that, my heart aches, not for the people who believe differently than I do, but for those who do know and haven't fully experience the Love of God. I can't even explain how this past year has changed me, but one thing is certain and its this: I have crossed over. 

I have crossed over from religion to relationship. After reading so much about it, after having it drilled into my brain that God is real... He's my friend, He loves me, He cares. I don't want to seem righteous but oh how I love Him. I can feel him. I can talk to Him, I can enjoy moments with Him. I can confide in Him. Ultimately I can feel him with me. I know feelings subside because they come and go but I can FEEL His love in the reality that it subsides in. Just like the pressure of my fingers on these keys and my foot on the ground. Knowing  that the creator is near... is a comfort I can't even explain it justly. I must sound sooo generic right now. but oh how different it is when people have crossed over. Its not even being saved or not, its the fact of being so completely captivated that you have no other desire but to stay in this place. Its not a place without trials and tribulations.. but a place of support, love and comfort. blah i feel like i'm ranting. 

But God, you know me. I'm on purpose. You took your time on my details and  you said I'm worth it. You're presence isn't fleeting, and your love is relentless. Your comfort is reassuring and when no one else was here God, You were beside me. All of me God, wants to be where you are, and you are where I am. 

[aseaofcadence]

Just a nurse by: kateri

Just a Nurse

In the first year of my career as a Registered Nurse I continued my education, wrapping up my Bachelor’s Degree in Nursing, not yet a requirement to work as an RN, but a well worth it continuation of a degree to make you a more well-rounded, and to be honest, respected Nurse. One of the requirements for this degree was a course called “Professional Issues and Trends”. The course explored the profession of nursing, barriers it is facing, and the way that we, as nurses, can change that. I learned many things in that course, but the most important, the thing that has stuck with me the most was this.

A few days into the course, our Professor made one thing very clear; each and every one of us, from that moment on, needed to remove “Just a Nurse” from our vocabulary.

“Are you a Doctor?”

“No, I’m just a nurse.”

I have spent six years since trying to avoid that phrase. More so, I have worked to avoid that feeling. I work hard at what I do, but am often aware that my friends and family have no concept of what nursing is. I don’t bring you to your room at the doctor’s office, sit you on the table, and check your normal blood pressure, then go and get the Doctor. Instead, I am often in a room with a small child on a ventilator, multiple intravenous medications infusing through central lines keeping the vascular system constricted or dilated. I monitor blood gases and adjust ventilator settings accordingly. If the blood pressure goes too high I adjust the medications related to these values. I keep my patient adequately sedated and paralyzed, for their safety, without over medicating them. It is often my responsibility to determine this balance.

Recently, I had a nearly two year old patient who pulled his own breathing tube out in the early morning. We weren’t sure whether he would do ok without it so I monitored his respiratory status closely all morning. By mid-afternoon he seemed to be doing well enough. By then his sedation had worn off and he had no interest in staying in bed. Concerned that he would harm himself moving around through multiple IV and arterial lines, plus a BiPap machine, and monitor leads, I decided to hold him. He had no family present but needed close to a dozen IV medications over the next five hours. I collected them all and lined them on his bed. I pulled his syringe pump that would be used for the medications off of the IV pole and placed it on the bed in front of me. I lifted him out of bed and onto my lap, into my arms. For five hours we rocked and I held him close. He stared into my eyes, played with my hair with his one arm, tried to suck this thumb through IV sites and arm boards. I gave his medications one by one until the nurse who would relieve me for the oncoming shift came in.

I’m not just a nurse. I am a nurse. I can over the course of the 12 hours shift go from interpreting serial blood gases to comforting a sick child while continuing to monitor vital signs, respiratory status, and administer medications.

I am the eyes, hands, and feet of the physician. I am not their eye candy, or their inferior. I don’t stand up when they enter to room. I don’t follow their orders, I discuss the pathophysiology of the patient’s condition with them and together we make a plan. Often the things I suggest are the course of action we take, other times I learn something new I had not understood from this doctor. They don’t talk down to me, we discuss things together.

I had an experience this weekend, one of the first of its kind for me, and I was surprised by how angry and affected by it I was.

A friend cut their arm and hours later still struggled to stop the bleeding. I assessed the wound and created a pressure dressing out of the supplies you have available in a Frat house cottage. I reluctantly informed the friend that the wound would likely need a stitch, or glue. It wasn’t large, but was deep and wide and would likely heal poorly, if at all, and even if it didn’t become infected, would leave a decent scar. I am not one to jump to big medical interventions, if anything I ride the line of noncompliant and under concerned.

My opinion was shared but another guest, a doctor, decided it would probably be fine with a Bandaid and heal without issues. He may be right, or I may be right. But a close family friend who I have known almost my entire life chimed in,

“No offense Kateri” he said, “But obviously we’re going with the doctor over the nurse for this one.”

“You’re just a nurse” he might as well have said, although he didn’t.

I felt like I had been smacked in the back by a two by four. Another friend present knew this would be my reaction and turned in horror as the color left my face and the posture left my shoulders. Something inside of me sunk.

The following day I struggled to understand why I was still upset. Surely he had no idea what his words had meant, or how they felt. But over lunch the following day, as I discussed my new job with my family, it became clear. My job is so much, and so much of it is misunderstood. And maybe this is no one’s fault but my own. Sure I’m a nurse, yup some days are sad, yeah, blood and poop don’t bother me.

But that’s all I say. I don’t tell you what I really do. And the media definitely doesn’t either. Nurse friends, help me out here. Maybe it’s time that we stop pretending we are less than we are, that we do less than we do.

I came across the following blurb this morning. I wrote it a few years ago for Nurse’s Day, and it rings as true today as it did then. I may not be a doctor, but I am a nurse. And if you are someone whose mind says “just a nurse” please, go ahead and ask the nurse you know best what it is that they do. I think you may be surprised.

I am a Nurse. I didn’t become a nurse because I couldn’t cut it in med school, or failed organic chemistry, but rather because I chose this. I work to maintain my patient’s dignity through intimate moments, difficult long term decisions, and heartbreaking situations. I share in the joy of newly born babies and miraculously cured diseases. I share in the heart break of a child taken too soon, a disease too powerful, a life changed forever. My patient is often an entire family. I assess and advocate. Sometimes I wipe bottoms, often I give meds, but that isn’t the extent of what I do. There are people above me, and people below. I work closely with both, without them, I could not do what I do well. I chose this profession and love almost every minute of it. I know I am not alone and I appreciate all of the nurses who work alongside me. Many of them have shaped me into the nurse I am. Someday I will shape others into the nurse they will be. This wasn’t my plan B, it was my plan A, and I would gladly choose it again.

[aseaofcadence]

from the quiet quarters of my room to the vast pavilions Your presence is everywhere and I love it. 

[aseaofcadence]

<3333

[aseaofcadence]

The struggle for God is real The suffering has been paid for The love is never ending

[aseaofcadence]

In a marriage there is always an alpha and a beta. A Christian wife would know how to be a alpha when need be but ultimately be her husbands beta. And as a Christian husband he would consider his beta as important as the alpha

[aseaofcadence]

Summer Nights

Wish I spent my summer nights playing guitar and making covers with a close friend of mine. Wish I knew about the simple joys of life before I had to grow up and be a big girl. 

Izzie, you don't know it yet, but these middle school years you spend on your porch singing worship songs are days you will remember and wish you could go back to. Unfortunately for me, I don't have days like that to reminisce over. I'm grateful for what I have now and I love Gods will. But just sometimes wish I have what you have. 

[aseaofcadence]

Amped

This past Friday I was doing videography for a pretty close friend of mine. She was hosting a sorority formal, which I guess was like a crossing ceremony for their new members and a graduation ceremony for those leaving. My friend, is very cute, totally down to earth, and a bit of a tom boy so when she pledged a few years back I was surprised, but no judgments really. So when she asked Justin and I to do it for free, we're down to go.  In my head I was thinking to myself that there must be some underlying reason as to why she would join something like this. Because shes not the sorority type. When I got there, I think.... I sorta understand the appeal. It was the sense of bonding and the idea of family that people found so alluring. I guess the idea of being someones "little" or "big".. or whatever, committed them to belonging to each other and college is definitely a scary transition from high school so I get the reason why they would want to belong to something. Of course they drank, got wasted, looked out for each other and had this familial bond going on. There was a lot of "drama" and..... expressive.........personalities. but somehow all of them still have ties to each other. 

I'm going to be brutally honest, I was judging, left and right. I was thinking WHY in the world would you get amped up to drink, to party, to meet frat boys and to belong to such a drama filled egotistical group such as this. I honestly was getting a headache from all the high pitch voices and screams. I generally was annoyed. My friend who was the host was amazing though, she checked up on us and apologized for everything but I just wanted her to have fun. I really hoped that my face give my thoughts away. But I was just cynically judging not understanding ANYTHING, generally thinking that this whole thing was just.. dumb. 

But a few days later I'm thinking back upon the whole fiasco and I guess I was just kind of angry and passionate at the same time. Angry.... Passion.. now there's a weird combination. lol I was angry because these group of girls had more commitment to each other than CORE with God and with each other. Its not the sole reason but sometimes we loose members of our fellowship because they're tied to such organizations. I was angry because they formed a bond that was stronger than our bond with each other. I wanted a bond like that formed within our fellowship. 

Passion came in two forms to me. The first was my desire for our group to be as passionate to God as these girls are to this.... sorority and to each other. I know they hang out with each other all the time and that's impossible for us to do, but we have something they don't, which should trump everything. The second is that I was grateful for my "outs". I'm not sure if I'm explaining it correctly but these sororities get so "amped" for parties, formals, and idk what else because those are their outs. It's their way to let loose and release pent up anger. But i'm glad that I get so "amped" for Him. I'm glad that He's my out. I can sing, yell, break down and release everything to Him in the same way they have their outs. I'm just glad that even though my relationship with Him falters (because of my failures), I still can get amped up for Him. I'm trying not to sound corny. But I guess I'm just in love with God and I'm glad that he's my out. 

Blah I should be more understanding and non-judgmental. Humility.... its been almost year and yet you're still haunting my every thought. Okay maybe not haunting lol. but yah. 

[aseaofcadence]

Prayers

Prayers to all my friends struggling with finals. I know how difficult it can be. 

Prayer to my sister who gives.. gives.. gives.. and never receives. Shes having difficulty with Sam, long distance can do that do you. She continually gives to her husband but never receives a small act of love like flowers or birthday gifts. Not that its all about that but when hes doing things like that for another girl besides his wife.... it seems a little.. whatever. Believe me I understand the pains of long distance but shes at home stretch a month or so before hes back for good. She has yet to experience God's love. That's the problem with my family, they're irrational, uncompassionate, and naive.

I love them, I do. But my brother acts like an adolescent teenager with his fiancee. Indulging in the monetary fleeting aspects of life and referring to her in derogatory terms behind her back. My sister is easily angered and tends to lash out and she gives more and doesn't know how to take. My mother lives in a web of lies and deception that I can't even begin or want to understand. My dad... has no existing relationship (enough said). 

All these 1st degree relatives I have, don't know Your love. How are they supposed to love their spouses when they haven't experienced true forgiveness, patience, abundant, and compassionate love? I'm not saying I'm perfect. I have issues every single day with those aspects. But I can't imagine not knowing that type of love from You. When i'm being irrational I try to revert back to You. I've been trying to sway them, but I'm just the baby, the munchkin, the little one.  Honestly I'm not going to lie God, and if I did you'd know it.. haha... irony. But I'm scared, relationship issues are soo terrifying, divorces... are ugly and retched. Heartbreaking and life threatening. The fear stems from alllll of the relationships directly affecting me. My poor sister, who gives so much doesn't deserve this kinda crap. Bless her God, let her rest please, she just needs some comfort. Shes been so strong for me when I was a kid, for my dad and mom during the divorce and continually afterwards. Please if anything, don't let her go down this path with Sam. I know its minor and i'm already freaking out. I have issues I know but please help her. Help me understand and realize the weight that comes with relationships. I'm young but I just don't want to be afraid. I don't know if i'm over reacting, but their divorce had a huge impact on me and I'm only starting to realize it. 

-Amen You can love.. more in a moment, than I or any other lover could in our whole lifetime.