After all, I am Just A Nurse....

Each work day, my alarm goes off anywhere between 4:45 am and 5:15 am depending on which hat I am wearing.  I am not dressing in designer clothes, I am wearing $15 scrub pants from Walmart and a t-shirt I got for free with my hospital's logo.  I don't have a stylist.  I get dressed in my bedroom, not a dressing room.  If my co-workers are lucky, I take the extra 10 minutes to do my hair and put on make up, but that is rare.  I don't have a hairdresser or make up artist at the ready.  I throw some yogurt, a frozen breakfast sandwich, a microwavable lunch, and some snacks in my lunch bag.  I put on the most expensive shoes that I own, a pair of $165 Dansko's.  I don't own designer shoes.  I get in my car and drive 35 minutes to work to get there at 6 AM or 7 AM depending on what my job duties are for the day.  I don't have a driver with a fancy car to bring me to work.  I drive myself.  Because, you know, I am just a nurse.

I spend most of my morning bouncing from one room to the next, hanging IV medications, taking vital signs, talking to doctors, social workers, case managers, child life specialists, pharmacists, physical therapists, assessing patients, talking to patients and families.  If I am lucky, by 11:30, I will be eating my breakfast sandwich and yogurt and charting while sipping on cold coffee that I had all intentions of drinking earlier in my shift.  I don't have a spread of food in a  "Green Room" or an assistant to get me some crazy soy, mocha, half-skim, with a twist of caramel latte thing.  I work 14 hours a day and drive myself back home because I did not magically get a driver while I was being just a nurse.  I sometimes miss my own child's bedtime.  My dad has to put him to bed because I don't have a nanny or au pair.  When I get home, I might eat dinner, but I am mostly too tired.  I don't have a personal chef or reservations at a 5 star restaurant.  But what would you expect?  I am just a nurse.  

Much of my time is spent listening to a parent tell me her fears because her preschooler was just diagnosed with diabetes and she is not sure how she is going to poke her child's finger multiple times a day and give her insulin injections all by herself at home.  I call the doctor and advocate for a patient because of the subtle changes in her condition are starting to add up to something bigger.  I comfort the baby who is crying because he is alone in his room without any parents there and he is tired and scared.  I sing The Wheels on the Bus to a toddler as I insert a new NG tube into her nose so she can get the nutrition she needs to live.  I talk to the teenager who has a chronic illness and is tired of being different and just wants to fit in with her friends so she stops  doing her life saving treatments.  I write memories and well wishes in the book of one of my patients who is transitioning to adult care and alleviate her fears of having a new doctor and new nurses.  I cry with my co-workers when a patient dies.  I hug the family members who come back to see us after their beloved child dies from a nasty disease.  I get tears of joy in my eyes when I see babies thriving when, just a year ago, they were struggling to breathe.  I have worked holidays away from my family so I can take care of someone's child.  I put on a happy face because I get to go home to my child.  They want to be there even less than I do.  It's just a job, though, because I am just a nurse.

It was just 10 short months ago that a nurse put her arm around my shoulders to comfort me when my husband had to be intubated and my family had not gotten there yet.  It was nurses who stood and prayed with me when I felt alone.  It was nurses who used to take care of my husband who took up a collection of grocery store gift cards to help me through the holidays.  It was a nurse who listened to me talk for hours about my husband when he was in the ICU.  It was a nurse who held my hand and cried with me and told me it was ok to let him go, to talk to him, that he could hear me.  It was just a nurse who rubbed my back 9 months ago as I heard the doctor say, &I am sorry for your loss& when I became a widow at 35.  It was my husband's nurses who came to the funeral home and the church to say goodbye to the love of my life.  But, they are just nurses.

I lay in bed at nite and think about the patient who was one treatment away from going to the PICU.  I get teary eyed thinking about the patient who was there because they were mistreated by someone they trusted.  I wonder if the parent who was scared about a new diagnosis is sleeping well.  I hope the toddler that was a difficult stick got the IV put in on the first try.  

It is what I do.  After all, I am Just a Nurse.

Mid February Shouldn't Be So Scary

"I am fine."  "We are good."  "We are getting along."  "We are adjusting."  This is what I say to everyone.  Everyone.  No exceptions.  Family, friends, co-workers, neighbors, acquaintances, everyone.  I even told that to the chaplain.  And you know what?  It is a lie.  A complete and absolute lie.  I keep a journal that I write in just about every nite.  It is to Sam.  I write him letters.  The other nite, I didn't write in it because I was angry with him.  Actually, two nites went by that I didn't write in it.  I was angry because he left me.  He left me with a broken heart.  And I am having to lie to people to tell them I am ok.  The truth is, that if I tell people the truth, I will cry.  I hate crying.  I hate crying alone and I especially hate crying in front of anyone.  I am afraid that if I start, I won't be able to stop.  I know that I won't be able to stop.  It happened the other nite and it happened today.  The other nite, I got home from work after lying to the chaplain and I started to cry.  Standing in the shower for an hour.  Until the water got cold.  So cold I couldn't even feel it anymore.  Just crying by myself.  It is the first time I have really, really just cried and I couldn't stop.  No matter how hard I tried, the tears just kept flowing.  I couldn't even be honest with someone whose job it is to listen to me and offer comfort.  I don't know why I feel like I need to be so strong and hold it together.  Perhaps I am afraid that people will think I can't handle my job anymore.  Perhaps I fear that people will not want to talk to me anymore if I just focus on how sad I am.  People keep telling me how strong and courageous I am so I guess I feel like I need to act that way.  I don't want to be known as the girl who falls to pieces at the drop of a hat.  I don't want to be the girl who only talks about how her husband passed away.

Today, I had an interview.  But I watched Sam's video as soon as I got the link for it, which was shortly before my interview.  This was the first time I had heard Sam's voice since November 13th at 5:20 pm.  It was the first time I heard his interview.  He was so real.  He was right there.  I wanted to hug him and kiss him and have him tell me he was going to stay right here and that he wasn't going anywhere.  But that didn't happen.  Instead, after 22 minutes, the music stopped and the screen went blank.  I wanted to scream for him to come back.  I could not stop crying.  I cried when I was getting ready.  I cried in the car on the way there.  I cried in the parking deck.  And when I cry, I sweat.  Profusely.  So I had to go to the gift shop to buy some deodorant.  I almost wanted to call to cancel, but I knew how disappointed Sam would be if I canceled.  So I didn't. 

I can't sleep at nite without the tv on.  I tried to sleep with it off the other nite, but I am haunted by sounds and visions that no one should ever be haunted by.  Thoughts of what I could have done differently to try to save Sam.  Memories of fights we had and hurtful things I had said.  Sam always told me that he was afraid that if he passed away, I would just spend all of my time crying - I made a promise to him that I would not do that.  I have tried really hard to not do that and have succeeded thus far.  But I don't know how much longer I can do that. 

I know there will always be pain, but I hope that it gets better as time goes on.  Eventually, I hope I will be comfortable enough to cry if I feel like crying.  Right now is just a very sad and confusing time.  There isn't a handbook for grief and there are not many people I know who are in my same situation.  I am trying the best I know how and that is all I can do.

"But you went away
How dare you?
I miss you
They say I'll be ok
But I'm not going to ever get over you"

He Won at Life

Just a few words that I spoke at Sam's funeral. 

"Before I begin, I would just like to thank everyone for coming to celebrate the amazing life of Sam Byram.  The amount of people who came shows how well-loved Sam is.

Anyone who knows Sam knows how persistent he could be.  Early in 2006, he saw a photo of me on my friend, Kirsten's, MySpace page.  He kept bugging her to introduce us.  Every time she told me about him, I kind of shrugged it off.  I wasn't looking to date anyone at the time really.  Plus, he was 21 and I was 27.  When he was admitted to the CF Center for a 2 week tune-up, I finally gave in and agreed to visit him.  Well, the joke was on me.  I fell head over heals, he stole my heart, it was love at first sight.  Sam was such a gentleman.  From that day on, we have spoken everyday.  Sam knew what he wanted in life and he was determined to succeed in all he did.  And I loved that about him. 

No one can say Sam lost his battle with CF because he won at life.  Sam was a wonderful son, loving husband, gentle father, excellent friend, nephew, cousin, and uncle. 

Sam lived out his dreams ~ he earned his MBA, studied very hard and became a CPA, purchased our dream home, got married, worked full time, was an avid tennis player, and became a father.  I didn't know it was possible to love Sam anymore than I already did until I saw him with Owen.  Sam wanted to do everything with Owen, even if that was changing the scariest of diapers.  Owen was the light of Sam's life and I know he fought so much harder because of him.  Sam wanted to be able to see Owen grow up, teach him how to play tennis, and cheer on the GIANTS each week during football season.  Oh, how lucky I was that Sam chose me to follow his dreams with. 

Not a day went by that he didn't tell me how beautiful I was or how much he loved me.  If someone told me I had to choose between experiencing the greatest of all love for only a short time or mediocre love for a lifetime, I would choose the same path I chose.  The joy, happiness, and true love I have experienced far outweighs the sadness I am feeling now. 

Oh, how lucky I am to have the most handsome guardian angel zipping around heaven."

Three months ago tonite would be the last normal nite I would have.  Your life can change in the blink of an eye.  Cherish every moment with your loved ones. 

"Undying love is more powerful than life; it lives beyond death."  ~Scottie Somers

.......And That Is Why I Wore Red To My Husband's Funeral.

People plan what to wear to different special events all of the time.  When you go out on a first date, you stare at your closet finding just the right outfit to wear.  I went out and bought a new pair of jeans and a new shirt for our first date.  When you meet the parents, you always make sure you have on the right outfit.  Going out for a special, romantic dinner requires just the right outfit.  Wedding dresses are probably the biggest clothing choice ever.  The dress I picked out was the first one I tried on.  I fell in love with it right away - kind of like how I fell in love with Sam right away.  I knew it was the right one.  I knew he was the right one.  It took me forever to find an outfit for my job interview and my mom ended up bringing me to Bloomie's in the city and got me my dress that I absolutely love.  It has a cute little leopard belt.  Of course it has leopard!  Would you expect anything different? 

I don't think anyone ever plans what they are going to wear to their 30 year old husband's funeral.  And that was the task that I was faced with.  I thought about it but was too afraid to look in my closet because if I did, that meant that I had to find something to wear to my husband's funeral.  If I put it off, it wasn't real.  It was something I was dreading doing.  But the day of his wake, I finally realized that I would have to wear something that nite and something the next morning for his funeral.  When I opened my closet and looked in and saw all of Sam's clothes hanging on the right side, my heart sank.  Then I looked over to the left side where my clothes hang.  That is when I saw it hanging there.  The red dress.

Sam always gave me the best presents.  Whether it was something big like a computer or something small like a board game, it was always something I needed/loved.  One year, for my birthday, Sam bought me 2 dresses.  One was pink and one was red.  I loved them both.  They were very fitted, though, and they showed every single lump and bump.  Sam loved the dresses and he loved me in them.  When he and I attended the dinner for the March of Dimes Nurse of the Year Awards, he asked me to wear it.  I was afraid to because I was not confident enough after I had Owie.  So I made up an excuse and told him that I would wear it when we go out to eat to celebrate his new lungs.  It makes my heart hurt that I told him no.  Especially knowing how much he loved me in that dress.

I was afraid.  That has always been a problem for me.  I have always been afraid of what others will think and what they will say.  To me, about me, behind my back.  And I don't know why I care.  I spent so much time telling Sam to not worry about the people staring when he coughed.  Ignore the people who watched him walk with his oxygen.  Smile at the people who stared while he rode in the little scooters while we went grocery shopping together.  It was so easy for me to tell him to not care what others thought, yet I spent so much of my time worrying about what others thought of me. 

When my mom and my sister asked me what I was going to wear, I was afraid to tell them.  I didn't want them to think I was crazy for wanting to wear a red dress to my husband's funeral.  I did not want people to think I was the modern day Blanche Devereaux.  They both gave me the same answer.  It doesn't matter what other people think.  It is your husband's funeral.  If it was his favorite dress, if he loved you in that dress, wear it!  And it was that simple.  That is when I learned to stop caring what other people think.  And that it why I wore red to my husband's funeral.

"Be who you are and say what you feel.  Those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." ~ Dr. Seuss

Hello! It's just me, again.

It has been a really long time since I have posted on here - over a year!  So much has happened in the past year - I am not even going to touch on the obvious today - losing my grandfather and my Sam.  2014 has made me realize that I need to live my life to the absolute fullest.  I need to be true to myself and true to Owen.  We are having to adjust to a new life and things have changed.  Therefore, I have changed.  There is one person in my life who I have to deal with and it isn't always the most pleasant experience.  Railroading is how he gets his way and I have realized that this is not going to work.  It is going to have to change.  I don't have Sam to hide behind anymore.  Some people are very outspoken and have no issues voicing their opinions, not really caring who they hurt as long as they get their point across.  Others have a constant "poor me" attitude and have no issue telling anyone and everyone who will listen what their latest drama is - moping around and focusing on just the negative in their lives.  The realization has hit that I cannot be around toxic people right now. 

On to the happier stuff.  Thank God for my Owie and my puppies.  They are the reason I get out of bed every morning.  During this past year, I have watched my baby boy blossom.  He amazes me and I love seeing the person he is becoming.  Owie is definitely a mix of Sam and myself.  He loves to make people smile and laugh.  Boy is he funny!  Somehow, we were blessed with a mild mannered baby who will eat anything but cottage cheese, sleeps until about 10-10:30 am, loves to go shopping with me, and is pretty stinkin smart.  And he is beautiful - on the inside and out.  I can already tell that he is a gentle soul and he is going to go places.  I am going to do everything in my power to make Sam proud in how I raise our son.

Short post, I know.  Hopefully, I will be posting more about my journey.  Our journey, actually.  Thank you to everyone for their kind words and outpouring of love over the  past few months.  Thank you is something I can never say enough.  Hugs to all and please, please, please cherish every moment with your loved ones.  Hug them, kiss them, squeeze them tight.  Tell them how much you love them.  There is no such thing as saying it too much.

"Life is a story.  Make yours the bestseller." ~ Unknown

For Auld Lang Syne.....

As the year comes to a close, I am starting to think about some of the changes that I want to make in my life for 2014.  Nothing drastic, just ways that I can strengthen the relationships that already exist and perhaps creating new relationships. 

I just wanted to take a second to focus on some of the highlights of 2013.  There were many highs and lows this year, but I really just want to point out some of the positives.  These are in no particular order:

1.  Sam and I deciding to try to have a baby again this year.  We were told that it could take up to 6 tries with fertility treatments but it worked on the first try (aside from our effort from 2011).

2.  Getting pregnant!

3.  Winning the Daisy Award.

4.  My bestie, Lisa, having her 2 beautiful twins, Annabelle and Henry.

5.  Celebrating 3 glorious years of marriage to the best hubs a girl could ask for.

6.  Being a balloon handler in the Children's Healthcare of Atlanta Christmas Parade.

7.  My sister, Dana, being a cancer survivor and is now in remission.

8.  Another bestie, Kathleen, getting engaged!!!!!  WooHoo!!!!!

9.  Seeing so many people that I had not seen in such a long time at my baby shower and being able to celebrate with them.

Well, I think that is it.

BAZINGA!  (Just Kidding......)

My most amazing highlight of 2013 was........ Drum roll, please!

10.  The birth of my beautiful Baby O!

Wishing you all a healthy, happy, joyful, beautiful, fun, peaceful 2014!

"Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind ?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and old lang syne ?

CHORUS:

For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And surely you’ll buy your pint cup !
and surely I’ll buy mine !
And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We two have run about the slopes,
and picked the daisies fine ;
But we’ve wandered many a weary foot,
since auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We two have paddled in the stream,
from morning sun till dine^† ;
But seas between us broad have roared
since auld lang syne.

CHORUS

And there’s a hand my trusty friend !
And give me a hand o’ thine !
And we’ll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

Life's a Parade!

If I had a bucket list, there would be a HUGE check mark next to a task that I would definitely have on there.  On December 7th, I had one of my dreams come true.  It may seem something that is ridiculous or insignificant, but I got really excited about doing it and it turned out to be better than I thought it would be.  Are you ready?!?!?!?!  I had the privilege of being a balloon handler in the Children's Healthcare of Atlanta Christmas Parade!  It was GREAT!!!!!  Because I won the Daisy Award in February, I was asked to march in the parade.  I had the best time.  The balloon that I walked with was an elf balloon.  It was the first one in the parade.  If I could do it every year, I would!  Of course, with everything I do, there had to be some "interesting" parts.

I had to be at the parade at 7 am.  Every day leading up to the parade was in the 60's and 70's.  For some reason, it decided to turn into winter weather that morning.  I woke up, fed Baby O, and then my dad was picking me up to bring me to the parade so I did not have to worry about parking.  Well, I hopped in my dad's car, which was parked in the middle of the driveway, and it would not start.  His truck was blocking both doors of the garage.  I called Sam and we did not have any sort of jumper cables or anything.  So, my dad had to put the car in neutral and I steered while we inched his truck over slowly but surely.  He ended up driving Sam's car to drop me off.  Not quite sure how he achieved this, but I arrived at the parade at 7:05.  There was a nice little cozy tent - which was nice because it was FREEZING!  We were not allowed to wear coats or hats.  I had on 7 shirts and a pair of gloves.  I was an icicle.  At 7:15, they told us they needed some volunteers to hold down some of the balloons while they were getting blown up.  Eager to get started, I hopped to it and lent a hand.  It turns out that I had to stand in the same spot from 7:15 until 10:30 when the parade started.  In the FREEZING cold.  For some strange reason, when they were asking for volunteers, the only people actually volunteering were CHOA nurses.  Breakfast was provided and we froze and watched others (big strong burly men) stand in the tent nice and warm, eating and drinking coffee.  We finally started to send one person at a time to get food.  Would it surprise you that the nurses were standing there skipping a meal and being the first ones to lend a hand?  While we were waiting, the man from the balloon company came over and told us that he was going to give us a quick lesson because we would not have a professional with us.  He showed us how to raise and lower the balloon - as it turns out, Peachtree has tons of power lines.  Balloons and power lines do not mix, so we had to raise and lower the balloon.  The pro told us that no matter what, make sure that the balloon was flying nice and high when we got to the Grand Stand.  This is where the TV cameras are and also where the sponsors and their families sit.  Seemed easy enough, right?

As 10:30 approached, my heart was pounding!  The band in front of us started to play.  They started to walk.  We got the cue for us to move.  Around the corner we went - only to be greeted by a power line right away.  We lowered and raised the balloon as though we had been doing this forever.  Woo hoo!  Marching along the parade route, waving to the thousands of people who were sitting along the street, this was a dream come true for me!  Suddenly, the parade came to a halt.  I knew what this meant.  We were getting closer to the Grand Stand.  This was it!  Make the balloon look beautiful.  As we were standing there, it started to get a little windy.  I was thinking this was my big TV debut.  It can't be windy.  My hair was going to get all crazy and my eyes would start to water which would cause my makeup to run.  We started to move again.  This was it!  We were approaching the Grand Stand!  I could hear the announcer say that we were Daisy Nurses and describe what a Daisy Nurse it.  Just as we were getting there, a GIGANTIC gust of wind came and we lost control of the balloon.  On the Grand Stand.  On TV.  In front of the sponsors and their families.  More importantly, my hair was a mess.  There went my hopes of being discovered.  My chance of getting a walk on role on Days of Our Lives was completely gone.  They did not keep the cameras on our balloon for very long.  Just long enough to see me yelling at everyone to pull on their ropes to bring the balloon down - or as my dad said, "That's about right.  There's Marisa being bossy and telling everyone what to do."  Funny how as soon as we started moving, the wind died down. 

We started walking again and managed the power lines with no issue.  Along the route, there were several radio stations that were broadcasting.  As we approached one, we could hear the announcer talk about how we were Daisy Nurses.  With that, another giant gust of wind came and we lost control of the balloon again.  This time, the weight of the balloon started to pull us as the balloon got lower and lower to the ground.  Suddenly, there was a chorus of children screaming as the balloon was rapidly making its way into the crowd of bystanders along the side of the street.  How ironic is that?  The nurses who usually save lives were now about to run people over with a giant elf balloon.  Nothing says Merry Christmas like a children's hospital Christmas parade tragedy.  Luckily, we gained control of the balloon again and finished the parade without any incidence. 

One thing I did not realize is that, as balloon handlers, we would be responsible for deflating and folding up the balloon.  At the end of the route, we took a left hand turn down a side street.  I was at the butt end of the elf where the zipper was to let all of the helium out.  The zipper was gigantic - about the width of my arm.  I volunteered to unzip the balloon being that I was right there.  I started to unzip and the zipper got stuck.  A little bit of helium was leaking out of the small opening I created, but at that rate, we would be there until New Year's Day waiting to get it all out.  So I tugged really hard on the zipper.  That's when it happened.  The helium started to rush out.  I mean really rush out.  My hair was flying backwards like someone who was sitting in a convertible going 80 miles per hour.  I was so taken aback, I took in a huge gasp of air.  I was paralyzed with shock as I could actually see the wavy lines of the gas streaming out.  And that is when I opened my mouth to speak.  I was able to mutter out, "I feel really dizzy, guys!"  But it wasn't my voice.  It was the voice of Mickey Mouse after HE had sucked helium.  Everyone burst out laughing because my voice was so high pitched.  Someone pulled me away from the opening and my voice stayed high for a bit longer than it would if you had sucked helium from your good old standard party balloon.  I couldn't help but laugh.  Only me. 

Once our happy little elf was all deflated and folded, I was able to locate my fan club.  It consisted of Sam, my dad, and Baby O.  We piled in the car.  At this point, I was so cold, my body stung when it started to warm up.  When we got home, I watched the parade on DVR.  Not long after that, I took a very long nap!  Even with all of the issues we had, it was still a dream come true for me.  Carrying a balloon looks like it is easy, but let me tell you, it is some hard work!

As for everything else, life is going well.  Baby O continues to grow.  How is he 11 weeks already?  I go back to work on Sunday.  I am not quite sure how they are going to be able to rip me away from Baby O.  Perhaps I can wear him in his carrier during my whole shift?  We stayed in GA for Christmas this year.  It was hard for me to not be in NY.  Christmas Day also marked 5 years since my Grams gained her angel wings.  I hope everyone is doing well and gearing up for 2014!

"If you're not in the parade, you watch the parade.  That's life." ~Mike Ditka

"Do all you can to make your dreams come true." ~Joel Osteen

Do all you can to make your dreams come true.
Joel Osteen
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/topics/topic_dreams.html#6lAv1hWVwE8YY4o5.99

If you're not in the parade, you watch the parade. That's life.
Mike Ditka
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/parade.html#WdtP6tfA2hohT2r7.99

If you're not in the parade, you watch the parade. That's life.
Mike Ditka
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/parade.html#WdtP6tfA2hohT2r7.99

If you're not in the parade, you watch the parade. That's life.
Mike Ditka
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/parade.html#WdtP6tfA2hohT2r7.99