Just One Step. Just One Breath.

Let me tell you a story. Bear with me here. This is not one of my funnier ones, but I always promise to be honest and share all parts of my life with you. So keep reading. It is worth it. I promise. Take a breath. Just one breath.

The last year has been one of the worst periods in my life. No really. It has. I dealt with losing two members of our family, my Mommy being in the ICU twice and the closong of InknBeans Press. To top it off, I was miserable at work. Miserable. I don’t even know if that word accurately describes how I felt about my job. No, I don’t think it really does. I sank into a deep depression and had a hard time seeing the good in anything. I decided to take one step. Just one.

That one step? I decided to change my job. The push to do so was knowing that where I was at was seriously making me cry every night. I sat one night on the couch and decided to get off of it and apply for different jobs. Living in a small town means there is not a lot for nurses to choose from and it also means a pay cut. To say I was scared was an understatement. I was terrified. Who is going to want me? How can I afford it? Can I even start over after 20 years at the same facility? All these doubts races through my head and honestly made me want to crawl right back in hed and never get out. But, I did it. I put in applications and decided whatever happened was meant to be. I never expected how it would happen.

I was sleeping for a night shift and got a phone call from a care facility for an interview. Yes! An interview. Ok that I can do. Well at least I can try and not sound like a complete moron who maybe knows how to speak English during an interview. I could only hope that my personality would shine theough and I would not have to complete the interview by interpretive dance. How embarrassing would that be? I laid there contemplating what I would say in an interview that would not make me seem like a complete moron when my phone went off again. I got a message from the place that was making me miserable and I knew. I knew I needed another job. Right then and there, fifteen minutes after agreeing to an interview, my whole world had gone upside down and I needed to make a change fast.

I crawled back into bed, stressed and tired. Defeated and exhausted. I needed to figure out what I was going to do. The world felt like one crazy merry-go-round and I really wanted off the ride. But you know what I did? I laid there and took one breath. Just one. That one breath allowed me to stop and listen to my soul. That one breath allowed me to take control of my life once more and see above the water of life I felt like I was drowning in.

I realized my self worth was not wrapped up in a dollar amount. I realized through that one breath that I could take that one step. I finally was able to see myself as capable. I slowly treaded the water of life. I pulled myself up out of that drowning depression and took a step. I went to the interview two days later. I took the job they offered me a week later. Six months later, in a company that appreciates me for who I am, I am taking a promotion. Change sucks but change can also be good and make you better. As long as you don’t change into the Stay Puff Marshmellow Man like in Ghostbusters. That is still terrifying to me.

So take that step towards happiness. Take that breath. You will be glad you did. Just one step. Just one breath.

Oh yeah. I didn’t die today. I did step back and make my life better and i didn’t die. I am The Fat Girl who can take just one breath and does not turn into a giant marshmellow figure Running. The experiment continues…

How To Have Fun With A Head Injury

I know I told you all about my Mommy falling and getting hurt because that is when I discovered she had a potty mouth.  But what I didn’t tell you is that she also had a really good concussion from the fall.  Now if you have never dealt with anyone with a head injury, it can be a little frustrating.  You see, head injuries repeat themselves quite a bit.  They can’t help it and they are not aware they are doing it.  It is part of the injury to the brain.  I always tell the parents of my patients that this is normal and it will pass but as the daughter of the patient, it was hard.  I didn’t realize how hard it was being a family member of someone with a head injury.  I didn’t want to get frustrated with my Mommy because it wasn’t her fault she couldn’t remember.  To make it easier, I decided to have some fun.

After she fell, my Mommy was in the ICU and I got down there the next morning after her accident (there had been a wicked snowstorm the day before and the freeways had closed so I wa unable to get there sooner).  She luckily knew who I was (not always the case) and who BFF was so that was good.  I knew I would need to be down there for a bit, so I proceeded to move in to my Mommy’s apartment and stay with her during the day.  The first day or two were rough as Mommy asked about every 15-30 minutes what had happened.  It went something like this”

Mommy:  “Where am I?  What happened to me?”

Me:  “You had a nasty fall Mom.  You are in the hospital and you broke some bones.”

Mommy:  “Oh yes.  I remember now. ”  and then she would proceed to talk about something else for 15-30 minutes.

15 minutes later….

Mommy:  “What happened?  Where am I?”

Me:  “Remember Mom, you fell and broke some bones.  You are in the hospital.”

It was a never-ending and tiring situation.  To make it easier, I decided to make it a little more fun on my end.  I mean, she wasn’t going to remember what I said so what did it matter, right?  The next time the conversation went like this:

Mommy:  “What happened?  Where am I?”

Me:  “Mom.  Aliens abducted you.  They took you up in their spaceship and probed you.  You had to come to Area 51 to get checked out, but it is a secret military hospital so we have to stay quiet.”

Mommy (whispering):  “Oh my goodness.  Do you think they will come back for me?”

Me (trying not to giggle):  “Do you want them to?”

Mommy (still whispering):  “Well, no!  But we better not talk about it in case the room is bugged. I sure don’t want to be probed again.  That could not have been comfortable.”

Me (really tying not to laugh loudly):  “Ok Mom. I am sure they won’t come back. Let’s just watch tv.”

I know you may think I am a horrible daughter, but after so many hours of being asked the same question over and over, I really just needed some comic relief.  It worked for awhile and I think she fell asleep for a bit.  Then when she woke up…

Mommy:  “What happened?  Where am I?”

Me:  “You ran away and joined the circus Mom. You fell off the tightrope and broke some bones.  Luckily, the Strong Man carried you here and the clowns called me.”

Mommy:  “No why would I do that?  That is stupid. Are you fucking around with me?”

Me (deadpan serious):  “Mom.  Would I ever do that?”

Mommy (glares over at me):  “Yes.  Yes you would.  I don’t believe you.”  The nurse walks in and Mommy looks at her “Did I really fall off a tightrope at the circus like my daughter says?”

Nurse (horrified and trying not to laugh as she looks at me):  “Did you really tell her that?”

Me (not at all ashamed):  “Yup.  What?  She isn’t going to remember in 15 minutes anyways.”

Nurse (shaking her head turns toward my Mommy):  “I am sure whatever your daughter tells you is correct.”  I start giggling uncontrollably and have to turn away.  I mean bravo to the nurse for playing along.  My Mommy caught on to that one and smacked me.  but 15 minutes later…

Mommy:  “What happened?  Where am I?”

Me:  “Ummmm.  Well, you decided to take up break dancing.  As you can see, that didn’t turn out so good for you Mom.”

Mommy:  “Guess I shall have to cancel those lessons then.”

Me:  “I already did Mom.”

I can now hear the nurse outside my Mommy’s room laughing as she listened in while she was charting.  At least she didn’t think I was terrible and found it funny.  Because 15 minutes later…

Mommy:  “What happened?  Where am I?”

Me:  “Mom, remember how we talked about that sex position I didn’t think you should try?  Well, I was right.  Look what happened.” I hear even more laughter from outside and from more than one person so I am assuming the nurse has called her co-workers over.

Mommy (giving me stink eye):  “Shut up. You are totally fucking with me.”

Me:  “Yup.  Sure am Mom. But next time let’s not try something new without fully reading the description.”

Mommy rolled her eyes at me and laughed.  At least she had her sense of humor.  And so did I because 15 minutes later…

Mommy:  “What happened?  Where am I?”

Me:  “You decided to drive in a Nascar race and crashed into the wall.  So here you are, in the hospital and broke some bones.”

Mommy:  “Well, I guess I didn’t win the race. Shit.”

Me (giggling softly):  “Nope.  But there is always next time.”

Mommy:  “I don’t think so.  I think I better not drive those fast cars anymore.  Sounds pretty dangerous.  I mean I am no Danica Patrick.”

Me (laughing out loud):  “No Mom, you aren’t.  Better stick with a regular car.”

Mommy:  “Yup. What made me think I could do that anyways?  That was dumb.  Remind me never to get some wild stupid idea again.”

Me:  “You got it Mom.  Check Nascar off the list of career choices.”

I think you get the point.  Luckily, the episodes got fewer and fewer as the day progressed, although she still doesn’t remember a lot of what happened and that is ok.  Brains are weird that way.  I don’t know if I would recommend this method as a nurse, but let me tell you, it sure made those first few days a lot more enjoyable and made me, my Mommy and the nurses laugh.  A lot.  And sometimes in times of stress, you need a little laughter.  Every 15 minutes.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did have to come up with new reasons my Mommy was in the hospital every 15 minutes, but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl whose Mommy even with a head injury knew I was fucking around with her Running.  The experiment continues…



And The Winner Is…

Ever had a surreal moment in your life?  Like you feel if you are in a dream and someone should pinch you to make sure you really are awake and experiencing it?  This happened to me this past summer, when I was nominated for a major award of my career as a nurse and ended up a state finalist for the award.  I know I don’t talk a lot about being a nurse, but it really is my calling to work with kids and I have been a pediatric nurse for over 11 years now.  So, when I was nominated for The March of Dimes Pediatric Nurse of the Year for the state of Arizona, I was stunned.  Never in a million years would I have thought that anyone would have nominated me for such a thing.  And never would I have thought I would be sitting at a luncheon as one of the state finalists for the award.  But yet, there I was, awaiting to hear my category called and to see if I was a winner.  And the winner is…

Wait…let’s back up a bit and let me tell you first what it was like to even get to this point before I tell you the results.  I know, such a tease, I had to fill out this long ass application to even complete my nomination.  Holy cow.  As I sat and read through all the questions they wanted to answer, I doubted whether or not I should even continue,  I mean, I have no special certifications as a nurse and I don’t teach or activate policies or anything like that.  I am a floor nurse.  I take care of sick kids.  But what I do outside of that is something I am super good at…I do community outreach.  Since that is what I was nominated for, I wrote about starting a quilt program and doing the giant 13 foot high duck in the 4th of July parade every year and collect comic book donations to encourage kids to read.  But really…nobody is going to pick me.  I don’t have all those letters after my name like my co-worker who also was nominated.  She has a tone of credentials, teaching and higher degrees.  I just come to work, take care of sick kids and nice families and go home.  How is this even worth a nomination or a consideration for this award?  Nope.  I even told BFF that my application would go nowhere.  When I got the email that I was a finalist?  I sat there looking at my phone in disbelief.  Wait. What?  They must have read the wrong application and contacted me by mistake.  My co-worker and I have almost the same name so it must be her.  I was stunned.  But it was true and BFF and I headed to Satan’s Asshole to attend the award ceremony.

It was at a fancy swanky hotel and BFF and I were lucky enough to stay the night before and hang out before the luncheon the next day.  My boss and my co-worker, also one of the 3 finalists, were also coming so we met up with them and sat with others from our hospital that had been nominated for other categories.  I mean…BFF and I can clean up real nice when we have to as evidenced by these photos.

BFF cleans up real nice
Adulting hard core


I was super nervous and kept telling myself it really didn’t matter if I won or not.  My c-worker was way more qualified than me.  She would for sure win or the other gal that was a finalist who worked with cancer kids. Yeah…this was just a fluke that I even made it this far, so I just needed to calm down and eat my lunch.  So much easier said than done.  I was a nervous wreck.  My stomach felt like there was a million little faeries fluttering around in there and they were taking up so much room, there was no room for food.  Plus, I didn’t want to to come spewing back up at the wrong moment. That would be unfortunate.  And gross.  At least I had BFF with me to distract me.  She is good at that.  Finally it got to my category and my co-worker and I sat there anxiously as they explained what it took to even become a finalist and again I was floored.  10 people blindly read my application and sent it through?  Really?  Nah.  Must have been one of those days where people were feeling generous towards the lowly peds floor nurse who really had no business filling out the application let alone even getting nominated.

Then the moment arrived and they said a name.  Wait.  They said MY name.  What?  I looked to BFF and she said “Oh My God!  That is you!  Stand up! Go!”  I felt like it was so surreal as I stood up, hand covering my mouth, tears in my eyes and told myself “Do not trip up the stairs”.  I want to say that I don’t remember much after that except for smiling a lot and pictures being taken.  BFF said she really wanted to jump up and scream “Suck It Bitches!” to everyone but thought better of it and just clapped and whooped it up for me.  Remember how I said I would be happy just being nominated?  I lied.  People who say that are liars.  I was super stoked I won and there is no feeling like it.  Screw that being happy to be nominated stuff.  Winning feels AMAZING.


So yes…I am The March of Dimes Arizona Pediatric Nurse of The Year.  #winning

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did win the biggest award of my entire career but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl who lied when I said I was happy to be nominated Running.  The experiment continues…

The Holidays Are Just A Date On The Calendar

It is coming up on holiday season faster than I even realized as I sat in a scheduling meeting the other day at work where we were discussing the holiday working schedule.  It is about this time of year that I get super frustrated with people.  Not because of the holidays themselves but because of people’s attitudes surrounding the holidays and working.  The holidays are just a date.  A time to celebrate family.  But is does not have to be exactly on that date  Just ask those of us that are in professions where working holidays is expected.

Every year around the holidays, It never fails that I will see a bunch of memes or posts on social media about the “poor retail worker” that has to work the holidays.  How everyone has a “right” to have the holidays off to spend with their family.  Let’s talk about this.  Having worked in a profession for the last 20 years that has to work holidays, I find these posts dumb.  No, I won’t feel sorry for the “poor retail worker” who has to work holidays.  I won’t feel sorry for anyone who has to work holidays.  Why?  Because to those of us that work the holidays the day is just that…a date on the calendar.

Now, before you get your chonies in a twist, let me explain.  The point of holidays is to spend it with your loved ones, right?  Well, celebrate on a different day if you have to work.  Thanksgiving dinner can be on a different day.  Christmas can be on a different day. Yes, it can.  I know plenty of people who have to work the holidays whose families celebrate Christmas on a different day.  If Christmas church service is important to you, then you try to arrange to go to a service that works around your schedule.  I look at my church schedule and find one that works for me and I work night shift  Yup.  That’s right, I never miss Christmas mass because my church has more than one service.  Sometimes it means going on Christmas Eve at like 4 pm and then go to work, but I go with my family.  We celebrate Christmas whenever we can all get together and usually with my Mom that means the week before because all of us work the holidays and she lives 2 hours away.  But we make our own celebration.  Every year, my Bubby and I Skype Christmas with Seester who lives in Texas and we have to arrange when we can do it because all of us here and her husband work holidays.  You can make it work.  You just have to realize that the holiday is just a date on the calendar.  Make it your own. Your family really can adapt. As for kids, they really do not care what day they open presents or on what day Santa comes.  Let’s be real…they are in it for the loot.

Skype Christmas is so much fun!

As for the “poor retail worker”,  nope I don’t feel sorry for them one bit.  Maybe it’s because before I became a nurse, I worked in other industries that had to work holidays as well.  So lets take a moment and realize how many people work the holidays.  The hotels you stay at when traveling to your family or while visiting family?  Those workers all work the holidays.  The gas you put in your car to drive to Grandma’s house?  The gas station is manned by people working the holidays.  Some people don’t like to cook on the holidays and would prefer to go to a buffet or a restaurant.  Those workers are all working.  When you forget the rolls for Thanksgiving and run out to get them at the grocery store?  It’s open because people are working.  Those trips you plan around the holidays to Disneyland or some other destination?  The airlines and resort staff are working to make sure you get where you need and your holiday is perfect.  When there are car wrecks because of all the tired drivers?  You can thank all the police, fire fighters, emergency crews and staff at the hospitals that are working that day to save your loved ones.  Hospitals don’t close on the holidays.  We are open 24/7/365.  We work holidays to help your loved ones get better.  We give up time with our families to take care of yours.  We lack sleep a lot of time to spend time with our loved ones on a different day because we make our own holidays and it is just fine.  Some of us don’t mind working the holidays. We like making the overtime or we just like making holidays special for those who might feel like crap or who are traveleing.  Pocket Fiance says working Christmas morning at the hotel she works at is her favorite. I love working Christmas Eve and wrapping presents for the kids who are patients and leaving them in their rooms in the middle of the night so that Santa came to see them.  There are a lot of us who work the holidays.  So, no I don’t feel sorry for retail workers.  At all.

Stop with the memes and posts about the “poor retail worker” working and how they should be with their families.  How about posts and thanks to all of us that do work the holidays?  How about a smile and thank you when you see us working hard on the holidays?  Yes, sometimes we would rather be with our families too (or not as the case may be) on the holidays, but there we are working.  So take the time this holiday season to make a post thanking all those of us working.  That is a better use of your time.  Nurses around the world will thank you.  Hell all of us in different industries that work the holidays will thank you.  End rant.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did pick my own holiday dates to celebrate with my family because of work but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl proud to be a nurse who works the holidays and makes her holidays a different day Running.  The experiment continues…

When You Make Up A New Word That Is Unnervingly Accurate

We all know I like to make up words from time to time but really my words do accurately describe things.  Unnervingly so.  I mean stoob, when your stomach meets your boobs, is a perfect example.  It really does describe something and I definitely have a stoob. I am sure some of you can relate to that and to Chub Rub, which we all know afflicts those of us Fat Girls without a thigh gap.  So see, making up terms sometimes is a good thing.  After all, they do have a whole thing called Urban Dictionary to describe slang vernacular.  I wish stoob and Chub Rub were in there and I could be credited with creating them.  That might be all kinds of awesome.  Anyways, me making up words is really not a new thing but sometimes a necessity.  Don’t you do this to describe things in your life?  You should try it.  Your word might catch on, you never know.

The other night at work, I decided to coin a new word out of necessity.  I mean, it was 6:30 am and we were a little slap happy with it being the end of a busy shift but honestly, the word was really needed to describe what a poor kid had on the floor.  Sometimes this is when the best words are created, when you least expect it.  This word is one I can unfortunately relate to and so can a lot of you.  It is unnervingly accurate.  So here is my word that I coined and it’s definition:

Shemesis:  n.  A condition in which you perform the act of simultaneously shitting and vomiting at the same time.  (We call vomiting emesis in the medical field).  The worst.

Good word, no?  I mean it does the job.  It describes exactly the predicament you are in when you might have this condition. Can you relate?  Oh I can and it is not pretty.  Let’s just say having shemesis is not a fun condition in the least.  I have been this sick so I completely sympathize with this patient that had this the other night.  I might have laughed at my poor co-worker who had to deal with it because we used the Wheel of Destiny to decide who got an admit and he definitely got the raw end of that spin and I might have done a dance of joy to not have to clean up shemesis.  But really, shemesis is no laughing matter.  Have you ever been afflicted with shemesis?  Let’s discuss this.

Shemesis can be your worst nightmare when you are sick.  I mean nobody likes to vomit to begin with and add the shitting part on top of it.  Utter humiliation.  I mean if you are lucky, the pooping starts first and your butt is already over the toilet bowl when you have to start having it spew out of you at both ends.  That is easy to rectify if you have a trash can nearby.  But let’s imagine the other scenario.  There you are, praying to the Porcelain God when you realize it is going to come out the wrong end.  Oh dear, What do you do?  Do you see if you can quickly whip your pants down and get your ass over the toilet or do you just decide to humiliate yourself and fill your pants with liquid?  This is a terrifying possibility and hopefully you are not in public when schemesis hits you.  I mean, what do you do then?  This might be my worst nightmare.  I have no idea what I would even do in tif this happened in public except hope that I could get out of the public bathroom with my dignity intact.  It is a game of chance I tell you.  And one you will not win.  Either way, you lose and usually by that time, you do not care because you feel as if you are expelling a demon.  I have been here and let’s say a shower was needed afterwards and I just threw those pants away.  I could not make the transition quick enough so it was just badness all around.  Shemesis can make the best of us feel like we are helpless and disgusting at the same time.

If you have a spouse when you have shemesis, you might discover the depth of their love for you.  Are they willing to clean you up or help you in the shower if you are unlucky enough to have your butt over the floor? Will they help you dispose of the evidence of shemesis or will they stare at you in abject horror with a mask and gloves on and run the other way?  Shemesis is a true test of love.  Your spouse might be smiling sympathetically at you but screaming in horror internally.  Sometimes nurses do this.  For reals.  Sometimes we appear calm and collected while internally we are screaming in horror at what we have to deal with because our jobs are gross.  Plain and simple.  Or we come up with a word to accurately describe the horror we have witnessed to help us laugh at 6:30 am.

screaming dean

There are just two words to describe that shift.  Bleach wipes.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did coin a new phrase that is unnervingly accurate in my job but I didn’t die (I also didn’t have to take the patient thank goodness).  I am Fat Girl who has unfortunately experienced shemesis and the humiliating after effects Running.  The experiment continues…


We Listened But Did You Hear Us?

I don’t normally blog back to back like this but I felt a follow-up was needed to my last post about being “just a nurse” (which blew my mind that it got shared so much!  I am overwhelmed by that!  You all rock!).  The View, in response to the uproar on social media about what the ladies said about nurses, decided to issue an “apology” of sorts to the millions of nurses on national tv.  I put this in quotations because to be honest…it was not that.  It was, rather, an even bigger insult to nurses around the world.  I saw the clip posted over and over in nursing groups on Facebook and the message was clear :  Nurses didn’t listen.  Millions of healthcare professionals apparently took something out of context and blew it out of proportion.  We didn’t listen.  Whoopi Goldberg said it herself “You didn’t listen.”  I beg to differ Whoopi.  We listened but did you hear us?

I listened to the entire clip several times over for 3 simple words …”We are sorry”.  Not once did I hear those words to nurses or to Miss Colorado Kelley Johnson for the mean and unkind words you spoke about her.  I listened to you all try to talk over each other, getting louder and louder.  I listened to you call nurses “adorable”, “funny”, and that you were at “the mercy of nurses so we have to like them” but not once did I hear you call us “respectable”, “brave”, “compassionate”, “caring” or “knowledgeable”.  I listened.  Want to know why?  Because as a nurse, we are trained to do just that….listen.  We take classes in listening to be better at it with our patients, our co-workers and our families.  Listening is what we do.  While you were all trying to talk over each other to prove a point (which I never really got btw) and NOT listening to each other, let me tell you what I listened to this week at my job.

As a nurse, listening is key in our jobs.  So many things can be learned just by listening.  This week, I listened to a 2-year-old struggle to breathe….without my “doctor’s” stethoscope.  I listened to him wheeze and knew it was time to call the respiratory therapist to give him a breathing treatment.  I listened then to him settle down, his breathing eased by the medication, and snores begin to come for the first time all night.  I listened to a newborn’s cry as we had to start an IV to give her fluids to keep her hydrated.  I also listened to her mother comfort her with soft cooing sounds all the while tears running silently down her face.    As I walked down the hall, I listened to a school age child play video games to distract himself in the middle of the night so that he didn’t have to think about missing playing with his friends.  Earlier in the week, I sat and listened to a physician tell a teenager his chances of a football scholarship were over with such a huge break in his leg at the beginning of the football season.  I watched as his face fall, his dreams of going to college shattered, his mother softly reassuring him they would find another way.  I listened while a mother didn’t understand why her baby had to be on oxygen and I went over it with her until she did.  While you ladies were bashing Miss Colorado and what nurses do for a living, I had to listen to the keening and wailing of a family watching their 17-year-old son slip away from them because of inoperable brain cancer.  I had to hold and listen to a grown man cry at the loss of his son.  While you were listening to each other talk, I was listening to raw grief.

See…nurses listen.  We hear more than your narrow minds will ever hear.  We listen.  We listen to heartbeats slowly fade away.  We listen to monitors alarming that something is critically wrong with our patients and we rush to fix it.  We listen to doctors barking orders at us fast and loud in a crisis. We listen to patients when they say they don’t understand and we stay and explain.  We listen to the first and last breaths someone takes.  We listen to your prayers.  We listen to your fears.  We listen to your secrets.  Nurses listen.  What we won’t listen to anymore is the ladies on The View because they didn’t hear us.  They didn’t hear the 3.3 million strong men and women who are nurses stand up and say we are not “just a nurse”.  They didn’t hear us say how dedicated we are to our jobs….our patients….our pride in our skills and degrees we have achieved.  They didn’t hear all the ancillary healthcare professionals, including doctors, who stood up overnight and said nurses are the backbones of healthcare….that nurses matter.  Our long hours, our blood sweat and tears, our lives that we sacrifice to take care of you and yours…these are all things we knew going into the job.  We don’t expect to be patted on the back and told we did a good job.  We expect to be respected and we expect to be heard.  We want you to know we listen, we care, we love our patients.  It is more than a “talent” or a career….it is a calling.  Ladies at The View…we don’t want to listen to you anymore.  We want you to listen.  We want you to hear us.  We are a mighty force and you have poked the bear.  We want an apology.  We want you to know that it takes hard work, our job is stressful and we wouldn’t trade it for anything.  Take the time and go personally thank a nurse today….and listen.  Nurses are humans too.  We just want to be heard.  We deserve that.  We listened to you and heard what you have to say…now it is your turn to listen.  And hear.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did, however, listen.  I am Fat Girl who know how to listen and challenges The View to do the same Running.  The experiment continues…..

I Am Not “Just A Nurse”

I am sure you might have heard a small ripple in social media over the last 24 hours about the Miss America pageant and Miss Colorado, Kelley Johnson, who beautifully gave a monologue about being “just a nurse”.  I am also quite sure you may have heard a bigger ripple caused by the ladies on The View for making fun of her and putting down the 3.3 million men and women who call nursing their profession….I am one of them.  And I am not “just a nurse”.

I applaud Miss Johnson in coming out on a beauty pageant stage, dressed in scrubs, to talk about her talent.  While the ladies on The View might not see this as a talent, being a nurse does take quite a lot of talent.  It takes talent to put a urinary catheter in a patient that is combative…to find a vein in a chunky baby….to know what to say to a family that is losing a person close to them.  All of these things take talent.  And it took bravery for Miss Johnson to say so.  You see, we are not just nurses.  We are the people who give up weekends, holidays, birthdays, kids events at school and even sleep to be with you when you need us the most.  And we wouldn’t have it any other way.  We gladly sacrifice these things to do our job.  We are the ones who are in your hospital room probably more than you would like and we often come home feeling like we need Silkwood showers to disinfect ourselves.  While you ladies on The View are sitting around, drinking coffee, getting paid millions to be on TV with your uneducated viewpoints, nurses are getting paid to get puked on, slip in blood during a trauma, witness things that most people would feel are the horrors of the world, and hold people’s hands while they die so they know they are not alone.  I, personally, have never seen your show because I work nights.  That is right.  While you are sleeping, I am working from 7pm to 7am keeping children alive.  Some nights I don’t even have time to go potty, let alone get a cup of coffee, but that is ok by me.  Some nights the docs don’t even come on the unit, so guess who is here with all the sick kids?  The nurses. Yup.  Do you work almost 13 hours only to come back again every day? I think not.  Nurses do.  Every damn day.

I love being a nurse.  Absolutely love it.  I salute all people who want to become a nurse.  It is the hardest profession you will ever love.  You get yelled at, swore at, swung at and even spit on.  As for wearing a “doctor’s stethoscope”, well that is a tool of the trade my friends…and not just one doctor’s use.  They are used by nurses, respiratory therapists, techs, EMT’s, paramedics and doctors.  I don’t know how many doctors I have heard come into the unit and ask to borrow someone’s “ears” meaning the nurse’s stethescope because they don’t have one with them.   You might think of scrubs as a “costume” but I can guarantee you that none of us look like the Halloween version of our profession.  We are NOT “naughty nurses”.  We don’t wear shirts showing our cleavage or high-heeled shoes.  These costumes are also insulting to me.  We wear scrubs so we can squat down to empty a catheter bag full of urine and so we can sweat our butts off doing chest compressions to save a person’s life.  Nursing involves a lot of sweat.  Lifting a 300 lb person to turn them is no easy feat.  Some nights running to the ED to save a child’s life makes me sweat more than I do when I am working out.  Why?  Because my adrenaline is pumping, my heart is racing and I am praying I don’t have to hold a parent as their child dies tonight.  These are all thoughts that race through my mind as I sweat in my scrubs….my “costume” that keeps me cool as I am just a nurse. And as for wearing high heels…well one night slipping in blood, puke or feces and you would rethinking your choice of footwear rather quickly.  TV shows don’t even do our jobs justice.  Grey’s Anatomy shows all these doctor’s doing things the in reality nurses do….quit trying to steal our shit!  Quit degrading nurses and what they do.  We don’t just wipe butts and pass meds.  You know how the doctor miraculously shows up when you are having a medical crisis?  That is because the NURSE called the doc.  For reals.  Let’s quit trying to pretend it is the docs at the bedside 24/7 because it isn’t true….so TV land, try to get it right one of these days would ya?

Nurses are amazing people.  We keep our emotions in check to do our jobs.  You might not know it, but when your child dies and I am their nurse, I hurt too.  You might not ever see my tears.  They flow usually in the bathroom, my car driving home and most frequently in the shower.  Want to know why?  Because I need to be there for the family who just lost their child.  I need to hold their hands, hug them and help them decide on hard decisions like funeral homes and organ donation.  To put down a whole profession of some of the most amazing caring people I have ever known is disgusting. But I am not “just a nurse”.   As a PICU nurse, I am a singer (and not always on key) to distract an IV being placed, a comedienne to cheer up a chronically ill child, a counselor to listen to a teenager tell me why they tried to commit suicide, a cheerleader when a patient is able to take a step for the first time on their own after a major trauma, and sometimes a superhero to a 4-year-old because I can hear their “heart beeps” with my stethoscope.  These are all of what I am.  THIS is what nursing is about.  THIS is what nurses do.  If this is what you call being “just a nurse”, then I am proud to be just that….a nurse.  Fellow nurses, #showmeyourstethoscope!  We are nurses…what is your superpower?

So ladies at The View….I challenge you to follow in a nurse’s footsteps for one 12 hour shift and see what it is we really do.  I am sure then you could do it too since it isn’t a talent.  Oh wait…you need a college degree to do what we do.  My bad.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I felt the need to defend my profession but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl proud to be “just a nurse” Running.  The experiment continues…