Welp....I'm A Diabetic

 Two weeks ago I was diagnosed as being a Type 2 Diabetic. I knew it was coming as I am a nurse after all. The symptoms were there....fatigue, flushed face, increased urination and bowel movements. I was 43 wearing Depends because I couldn't keep up with my body's need to get rid of sugar by any means necessary.

So here I am 2 weeks later. I've been on the Keto Diet for 9 days and man has it been the longest 9 days of my life. What have I learned so far? I'm a sugar addict. There have been multiple times I have had to be talked of the ledge of binge eating sugar to get my fix. I have also learned that I can over come my cravings...they don't have to control me but I need help and support. 

Luckily I have a very supportive husband and mom to talk me off of the ledge before shoving a pop tart into my mouth. I am also supported by the company I work for who provide a diabetic support program called Virta. I have coaching and medical professionals that problem solve and support me when I feel I am going to lose it if I don't put a carbohydrate into body.

To date my blood sugars have come down from 262 to the 150-130's and I have lost 6 pounds. I take a weekly shot to help my pancreas utilize the insulin that it already makes. Once a day I weigh myself, prick my finger to get my blood glucose reading and ketosis level, and I log my numbers daily as well as my food/water intake. It's a process and takes time but as someone who has seen the havoc that diabetes can wreak on an individual, it is worth it. I'm worth it. 

God's Love Is Immeasurable...

"The love of God is like the ocean, you can see its beginnings, but you cannot imagine its width and depth. God loves you immensely in a way you can never imagine"- Ritu Ghatourey

Have you ever stood at the edge of the ocean, looked out, and contemplated its vastness? I mean,  really thought about the reality that you cannot see the other side? As I was walking along the beach this evening I did just that and I understood why the vastness of the sea is such a great metaphor for the love God has for us. 

As I stood in the sand this evening watching the sun go down over my beautiful state of South Carolina, it became obvious that I couldn't see the end of the ocean....its just kept going and going. If I walked a few steps forward into the ocean I was still not able to see where this beautiful body of water ended, and if I took a few steps backwards into the dunes the edge of the ocean stayed unchanged-immeasurable. Did you see what I did there? Stepping forward or stepping back, stepping towards or stepping away from God, like the edge of the ocean, does not change the amount of His love. It is constant. It is immeasurable. 

As humans we try to quantify the love of God. We try to say to others and often to ourselves, if I did or did not do a certain action, God's love would increase or decrease accordingly. That is wrong. God's love is absolutely NOT quantifiable. It is, however, qualifiable- a yes or no answer...and I promise you no matter how hard you try to make God love you more or less, the amount of love He has for you never changes- it just is. 

Next time you are at the seaside (shout out to England) stand at the edge of the ocean, breathe deep and just look across the water...see the other side? You can't because the ocean goes on forever and so does the love of the Father for His children. Even you. And even me.

I AM a mother...

I Am A Mother

As my circle of friends without children has grown smaller and my circle of friends who are unmarried grows even smaller yet, I find myself meditating on my current state in life. Single. No children. And to be honest I’m not even sure if I am called to marriage (enough bad relationships will make any girl question her vocation).  But I do know I am called to be a mother, or better said, TO mother.

I am a mother hen by nature. I can’t help it. When I ask someone how he or she is I mean it. How ARE you, really, on the inside? I feel the need to feed. And I worry whether a person knows how much they are loved as they are, where ever they are.  And while most women my age are hearing the “tick, tick” of their biological clock I have come to a beautiful place only by the grace of God, and that place is an understanding that even though no one calls me “Mama” I am a mother to many whether they know it or not.

I have many Goddaughters. They range from age 1 to 70+ years old and are spread across the globe from here in South Carolina to the Nuba Mountains of Sudan. I am called to pray for them, to encourage them in their faith/faith formation, and to be an example of holiness to the best of my ability (I fail miserably at this one).  I AM their spiritual mother.

On any given night at the hospital I take care of between 10 and 20 patients as a nurse assistant. For some I simply float silently in and out of their room to take vital signs. For others, I listen to their stories of fear, frustration, and victory as they battle whatever illness brought them through our hospital doors. And for a few, I am the last hand they hold, the last face they see, or the last voice they hear as they step across the threshold into heaven. I AM their nursing mother.

There are many forms of illness in our world and I have a great amount of compassion for those who suffer from the diseases that cannot be seen. When they speak of wanting to be free from the memories that haunt them I understand. When they choose destructive lifestyles I can grasp this is simply a way to numb the pain they feel. And when they feel abandoned by their friends, family, or even God I nod my head because I know. I AM their suffering mother.

Everyday I am blessed to be a mother. It has brought me great joy these past months to realize that I can be and am a mother. Like our own mothers and THE holy Mother, I rejoice, grieve, and encourage alongside “my children” and for “my children.” I am thankful for the example Mother Mary gave and I am even more thankful that Christ gave her to us ALL when he hung on the cross (John 19: 27- Then He said to the disciple, “Behold your mother.” And from that day forward the disciple took her into his home.) Being a mother is beyond genetics. It is about offering oneself to others unconditionally the way Mama Mary offers herself to us, her children, in every moment of our lives.

I AM a spiritual, nursing, suffering mother. 

This White Girl Can Dance

"My boy asks me how do u dance with a white girl, I reply just stand there bc she never gonna be on the same beat as the music #TrueStory"

The above tweet was the source of my latest "ah-ha" moment. As soon as I read this I defended white people everywhere and argued the stigma that we (white folk) do not know how to dance. There were a few more back and forth tweets with the final line from the instigator being "cute tho u standing up i admire that!"

And THAT was the source of my eureka moment...standing up!

In nursing school we are taught many theories and practices, one of which being the patient's advocate. Nurses are the last line of defense for a patient. It is the nurse that administers medications, therefore nurses are the last line of knowledge on the safety of the medication being ordered and the last person who can directly question the provider. Nurses are also the ones that spend the most time with the patient and notice the "little" changes that can quickly turn into big, life threatening situations.

Questioning a provider on any order, medication or otherwise takes guts....cajones if you will. However, there is no room for timidity in the nursing role. Nurses must be willing to advocate for their patients and family..to be the voice of holistic care in the patient's best interest.

I also thought about places in my own life, outside of my dance moves, where I have and still need to "stand up" for myself. Believe it or not have made leaps and bounds in the boy department with standing up and requiring to be treated for the woman I am. But there are still areas where I have SO much work to do. My best and yet most terrible fault is the fact that I put myself last....emotionally, physically, etc. But as my wise friend says, "You can't be a nurse if you are dead." So it is imperative for myself to "stand up". Saying "no" when I need to without guilt (which will be hard....I am Catholic after all) To do what I need to do to be the healthiest me I can be. If I can't stand up for me, how can I stand up for my future patients?

As I continue the path to becoming a Registered Nurse I can't help but think of our veterans and their families. Will I have the strength and courage to speak up, especially related to PTSD? Will I be able to do what ever it takes to get our vets not only what they need but what they deserve? There is much bureaucracy within "the system", I know this from my experiences in Washington DC and even here in Beaufort.

I can dance...I really can! And I didn't hesitate to defend my white girl dance moves. That is small potatoes...but sometimes you have to start small and work your way up from there. Today white girl dancing, tomorrow, standing up for my own health. And the day after that? Pushing the envelope so our veterans can get the health care they need and deserve.

My Breaking Heart

Here is a recent documentary on the situation in the Nuba Mountains. The last 6 minutes are about Mother of Mercy Hospital where I served...I never worked with Dr. Tom as we went to relieve him, but I did work and live with the 2 sisters that are filmed. 

The only thing that will stop this genocide is international pressure. As you will be able to see from the documentary, the government is not targeting the SPLA (Sudanese People's Liberation Army) but the civilian population. The famine is a man made famine focused on killing the Nuba people because they refuse to accept the customs of the Arabs (note I did not say Muslim as many Nuba are Muslim). 

I wish I could adequately express to you what this does to my heart. When I heard the children singing at "school" my heart leapt for joy but as you will see that is short lived. Upon returning from Sudan, I said that I had left half my heart there...well that half of my heart is being broken. 

The Nuba people just want to be Nuba.

Please, pray for my Sudan!

Documentary on the Nuba Mountains

My First Year of Nursing School

There are 21 days left in this semester...I had 2 exams this week. I have 3 next week and then finals begin.

Needless to say I am ready for a break...not from nursing but from nursing school. I am exhausted both mentally and emotionally. To be totally honest I am bordering on being burnt out. School is VERY difficult for me. I am a multi-sensory learner so a professor standing in front of me lecturing sounds very much like the teacher in the Charlie Brown cartoons. I need pictures, diagrams, and to actually execute the task with my own hands to grasp the concept.

Nursing school and nursing exams are unlike anything you have ever experienced...as the bumper sticker on my car says "Nursing School Is Not For Sissies" There is much truth and wisdom in this statement. In nursing school they don't want to know if you know what a disease IS, they want to know that you know how to "nurse" the symptoms of the disease. Have I lost you yet?

Example: Patient comes into the ER short of breath, the practitioner diagnosis pneumonia, and prescribes antibiotics. As the nurse you are watching the multiple symptoms of the disease...yes its important that the patient has an infection in their lungs but that's the practitioner's problem. What the nurse is looking for is that the lungs are getting clearer, adequate nutrition is being received, oxygen is at a good level, and the antibiotics are being administered on time...ugh, the things that can go wrong with antibiotics are numerous including anaphylactic shock=BAD.

So that's what I'm learning....they call it "critical thinking." That is, seeing a number of problems, putting them in order of importance, and responding appropriately. And sometimes all that must be done in a matter of seconds...seconds that could mean life or death for a patient-ugh, no pressure, right?

I have, however, learned a lot about myself in this first year...

1) I really don't know a lot about sex...I'm not sure who gets more entertained by my questions, my professors or my fellow students.

2) I do not want to be a labor and delivery nurse...hurry up and wait-not my style, plus, screaming women and crying babies stress me out

3) I can function on 3 hours of sleep a night for multiple nights in a row...I may be grumpy but I can function

4) If needs be I can and will crawl onto a patient's hospital bed to administer heart compressions during CPR

5) I can put in a foley catheter (a sterile procedure) without breaking the sterile field and having to start all over...that's a big deal! I've heard stories of students running through multiple pairs of sterile gloves before their professor steps in

6) I am able to leave my emotions outside of the hospital and be a hard ass if I need to be- this is a grace from heaven, however, don't mistake this for leaving my love at the door, which I don't...this grace of seperation will make it possible for me to be a good trauma/combat nurse one day

7) I see Christ in EVERY patient I care for...it is a honor to do the smallest task for them (I haven't had a patient with c-diff yet, so I could re-neg on this one)

8) I really do have every disease that we have covered so far in class with the exception of anorexia...I have managed to dodge that bullet

9) I can't manage nursing school and boys....I just don't have the skills for that nor the expertise...who knew the way to run a boy off was, after he asks for your number, to tell him you won't sleep with him

10) I CAN do this!- I will be a nurse. I will care for our veterans in the VA system. I will return to Gidel, Sudan to serve my brother's and sister's whom I love. I will, if needed, be prepared to care for our wounded warriors in a combat zone. I WILL BE A NURSE!

3 semesters and 21 days left...

Confession

I have wanted to write on my blog more but I always worry about the content. Will people judge me if they really knew what went on inside my head?

Let's face it, I've probably ruined my chances of ever being President of the United States with my "drunk texts" and "drunk voicemails" alone (come on laugh...y'all know you like when you get a VM or text from me that makes no sense).

I kind of had an "ah-ha" moment this week about myself....and I since I am unsure if anyone actually reads what I write on here anyway, I figure this is a safe place to share this eureka moment....I mean, who wants to be President of the United States anyway?

I don't watch romance movies. There I said it.

On a good day I can handle a "rom com" such as "Fever Pitch" but even in that movie the main female character gets pegged in the forehead with a fly baseball. But movies such as "The Vow" or "Water for Elephants"? No flippin' way! Even when MizW and I saw "Hunger Games" last night I said to her, "they ruined a perfectly good thriller with young love"

Want to know the way to my heart? "Jarhead" "Hurt Locker" "Transformers" Bombs, guns, and medical trauma.

I believe my deep dislike of romance movies comes from fear of the unknown.

See, I've never been on an ACTUAL date or as one of my girlfriends calls it "courted" (you know, boy comes to door with flowers, girl comes down the stairs in beautiful dress, boy drives girl to restaurant for dinner, boy PAYS for dinner, boy drives girl home and ask if he can see her again even before she gets out of the car) or experienced romance, unless you count my prom date but he just picked me up and brought me home. Oh, and I once received yellow roses from a group of my male USMC friends for my birthday but I am pretty sure that does not count as romance either...

Just like sky diving or bungee jumping, I want to experience romance, go on a date etc...I want to be open to it. But when I think about letting my heart be vulnerable, I start to hyperventilate and my stomach hurts...like I want to throw up hurt.

I LOVE being a girl, don't get me wrong. I have party dresses and I like to wear them. As every southern girl should, I wear pearls, have monogrammed jewelry, and own a set of Vera Bradley luggage. But being swept of my feet like Scarlett in "Gone With the Wind"? I don't know what that's like and I'd be more comfortable shooting an RPG or experiencing what an exploding grenade is like.

I do know that I want and deserve someone who is not ashamed of his love for me...who would shout it from the roof tops (or twitter/Facebook/what ever is handy) that I am his. He would publicly profess to take care of me, to never hurt me, or leave me....does this sort of thing happen in real life? See why I don't watch romance movies? My imagination is already off and running.

Tonight, I thought about watching "Tuck Everlasting" but I couldn't bring myself to do it, so instead, I'm going to watch a bunch of hockey players beat the crap out of each other in "Miracle."

Until next time....