I'm a nurse.

I’m a nurse. In case you don’t really know many nurses here’s a little insight into us: we’re fixers. We have this need to fix things and people that is deeply ingrained into our being. That’s why we became nurses. And some days it hits you in so many ways that you can’t fix everything. You can’t fix the pain and grief and terror that comes with a bad diagnosis. You wish you could. You will give everything you have to try and make it even a tiny bit easier. But you can’t fix it. You can’t magically fix a child’s pain on the worst day of their young life. Better believe you will use every medication and position and treatment you know. You will gladly fetch ice pack after ice pack in the hopes that this one will help. But you can’t magically fix a child’s pain no matter how much you wish you could. And when all these things are happening and you’re battling with your need to fix things and the inability to do so you realize you’re only halfway through the shift. And you’re not quite sure how you’re gonna finish it. And then the patient that you’ve had before but not today gives you a bracelet that she made herself out of pipe cleaners and beads. And that gives you the strength to get through a few more hours. And then your patient’s family member gives you a handmade thank you card. And you keep going. And just at the end of the day when you’re emotionally and physically exhausted and feeling guilty that you mentally checked out a while ago, your last patient tells you they wish you were going to be their nurse again tomorrow. And they give you a headband because you talked about always wearing your hair up to work. And a coworker from another unit stops by to give you a hug. 

And you realize that’s why we do what we do. We do it for these tiny humans that we can’t always fix as well as we’d like, but they see how much you were able to do. We do it for coworkers who get it and jump in when you just have to step away and cry for a minute. We do it knowing that we’re going to leave exhausted at the end of most shifts. We do it knowing we’re going to face heartbreak and set backs and disappointment. But we also see joy. Hope. Giggles. A long term patient walking out of the hospital to go home. And you know that the good will always outweigh the bad. The small moments will always come to remind you why you chose to be a nurse. So yes, I’m a nurse. I’m a fixer. And I’m so glad that I am. 

When there is nothing you can do...

One of the hardest things to accept as a nurse is the fact that you cannot save them all. Our instinct is to save. That's what we do. We train for the situations that involve emergent saving of lives. We practice scenarios. We keep up skills that can be used in any situation. Our base instincts are to help, to relieve suffering and to save. And in my profession, I see a lot of lives saved. But we will never be able to save them all. There are too many diseases, infections, injuries, and other things that we fight against. We have incredible modern medicine that improves many lives. But it can only do much against these diseases that ravage the body and mind. sometimes, we have to let go. And it hurts.

Sometimes you hear word that one of those patients has finished their journey here in this life. It may be a patient that you knew for 12 hours, or a patient that you knew for months as we fought to make what remained of their life as meaningful and comfortable as possible. No matter how long you worked with them, they leave an impact. They leave you hopeful that one day, we will have a cure for cancer. Or encepalopathies. Or a way to fully heal the brain and return to how they were before the accident. But most of all, they make you grateful for the chance you have to live. They make you realize that every day is precious. That there may not be a tomorrow. They make you hold on a little tighter to your own family and friends when you return home from another long shift of saving lives. Because even though we lose some, we save many more. And that makes every moment worth it.

Fly high little lady bug, you made a lasting impact.

Sweet Liesl

I've had so many thoughts running through my head today as I sat at work and tried not to let everything that reminded me of sweet Liesl make me cry. Because trust me, everything today reminded me of sweet Liesl. I have been thinking about the day that she was found unresponsive and taken to Primary Children's and placed in a room just down the hall from where I was working all day today. And I have been thinking of all the sweet tender mercies that happened that day, both to the immediate family and the rest of us that were there for that horrible day.

9 months ago today my mom woke me up and said "something's wrong with Liesl, I'm headed to the hospital". I am a nurse. We thrive on information and the lack of information at that point was killing me. Not long after they lifeflighted sweet Liesl to Primary Children's. I knew that there was no place I would rather her be, because the level of care they offer is incredible. I also knew that there was a strong chance that she would not make it out of that hospital. Knowing that I would go crazy at home, I drove Grandma Hilda to the hospital. I will tell you that being on the other side of a situation I see daily is awful. Being the family in the waiting room desperately hoping for any sign of good news was awful. After some other tender mercies the rest of the family arrived from out of town, and I took sweet Libbet home to my mom so that Jana could focus on Robyn and Matt. That girl was my saving grace on the drive home. We sang frozen at the top of our lungs and she made a royal mess out of my backseat eating pretzels, cheese, and cheetos:) I slept for about an hour, enjoyed some much needed Libbet cuddles and got ready to go to work that night. The rest of this I have never talked about with anyone, even Robyn and Matt.

Our Heavenly Father knew that I needed to be at work that night. But he also knew some other things about me because he knows me so well. He knew that if I was on my unit, even though it was just down the hall, the lack of constant information about Liesl and Matt and Robyn would kill me. He knew that I would not be any use at all to my patients or coworkers. So as I was on my way to work, I received a text message from the charge nurse. It said "Hey Michelle you are floating tonight." (Floating means you are going to a unit other than your home unit to help out). In my gut I knew where I was going, but I asked "Where?" "PICU". I knew that I would be near Matt and Robyn and be a friendly face if they needed it and I would also know what was going on. Little did I know, I was assigned the patient in the room right next to sweet Liesl. Another tender mercy, as I was able to see the family and keep updated. But another problem, as I was sitting there all night staring at monitors that did not look good.

Heavenly Father knows me well. He knew that while I needed to be near Matt and Robyn for my own sanity and maybe my presence was a help to them as well, he knew that I would be a wreck. He knew that I would sit and stare at the monitors every time I wasn't with my patient and that I would sob all night. So he sent another tender mercy in the form of a dear friend who had transferred to the PICU months before. He made sure that he was working that night and that he was able to spend much of the night right next to me, keeping my emotions in check for the majority of the night and hugging me when I was no longer able to stop the tears. Looking at those monitors all night made for the longest night of my life. I can't even imagine what was happening on the other side of that glass door with those sweet parents. I just kept watching the heart beat and praying that that steady line of beats would continue, hoping that each beat would not be her last. I was praying for the sweet family just feet away that were dealing with something a parent should never have to deal with. I was praying for three wonderful, strong boys who loved and protected their baby sister. And I was praying for the strength to comfort this sweet family as all the monitors showed it would take a true miracle for our sweet girl to pull through. I prayed for that miracle harder that night than I have ever prayed. And we got a miracle, not that miracle that we wanted most of all, but small, multiple tender mercies that have made surviving her loss bearable. I know that many family members experienced tender mercies in the two days that Liesl was at Primary Children's, and I decided it was time to share mine. 

Sweet Liesl, we love you and miss you. You have had an amazing impact in your short life and we are so grateful to have known you and your darling spirit. I am so thankful for all the tender mercies that were received that day and the many days following. 

Enjoying this season

 There has been a lot of emphasis in our singles ward and stake recently on enjoying this season of life. On realizing that this stage is not just a place holder, it is a time to learn, grow and experience new things. I've been thinking a lot about this recently as most of my friends have moved way past this stage and have families. I have thought a lot about where I am, and where I expected to be at this point in my life.

If you had asked me when I was in young women's where I would be in ten years I would easily have said married and having kids. Surprise. I am not married. I don't have any children. I am as single as it is possible to be. But that does not mean that my life is awful. In fact, it means that I am having lots of opportunities to do things that I otherwise would not be able to do. I have lots of time to spend with my family and my best friends and their families. I have time to get to know my adorable nieces and nephews in ways that would not be possible if I had my own family to focus on. I get to take them to the dinosaur museum and the zoo and cornbelly' s and take the time to really know them, understand them and love them. I get to live with my sister. We get to have random conversations about life, get hooked on new tv shows and just spend time together. These are times to be cherished. I get to go on random last minute vacations to St George and spend time with family and on my own. I went to Tuacahn by myself to see a play that I wanted to see. It was awesome. I met an adorable older couple that was sitting next to me and we had a lovely conversation. This season of life may not be what I expected, but that does not mean that it cannot be a great season. Yes, I would love to get married and begin my family, but I have complete faith in our Heavenly Father's timing and in his plan for my life. So I am going to continue to enjoy this season of my life as long as it lasts and learn all that I can to prepare for the next season of my life whenever it may be. 

Does Anything Scare You?

I was walking into work the other day and saw my assignment was with a very complicated patient. A newer nurse was standing at the desk and she looked and me and said "I'm sorry!". I looked right back at her and said "these patient's don't scare me." She replied with "does anything scare you??"

 I've been thinking a lot about this conversation the last week. Yes. There are a lot of things that scare me. You may not see them every day as I work very hard to be the person I know my patients, families and coworkers need to see. They need to see a nurse that is confident in her skills, that shows no fear even when things are going wrong. But yes, there are many things that scare me and I'm going to share some with you so that you know that like you, I am human. Like you, the stress and importance of my job are still scary. I have just learned over my years in healthcare to hide the terror until I hit my car at the end of the day. So new nurse, this post is for you

A complicated patient with a terminal diagnosis is still terrifying. It is still scary to me to walk into a room where parents and a child have received devastating news. I am scared that I will not have the right skills needed to help this child and their family. I am scared that this may be the day that something goes terribly wrong and their fight here on this earth is done. I am scared that I will lose my heart to this adorable person and have my heart broken into a million pieces when they have finished their fight. But I put on my nurse face, I hide my fear behind a smile and I do what needs to be done. And maybe, when I get to my car at the end of the day, I will let the fear and emotions overwhelm me and I will cry the whole way home. It happens to the most experienced nurse. You cannot do what we do and not have your heart touched. You cannot stand between a patient and death and not feel broken if you lose that fight. No matter how long you work in healthcare, it will always affect you and I pray that you never get too callous to feel. I pray that you will never get to the point where you don't care anymore. That scares me. I hope and pray that I never reach that point.

Codes will always scare you. It doesn't matter if it is your patient or not. If you are involved in a code you will be scared. Your adrenaline will kick in. You will face the fight or flight response. And as a nurse your instincts are to fight. They are to use every single skill you possess to fight off death. Will you be scared? Yes. Terrified?  Maybe.  A life is in your hands and the hands of your coworkers. And when the situation has resolved one way or the other, you will feel the adrenaline wear off and realize that though you were scared, you did it. Your skills and training kicked in and no matter the outcome, you made a difference. You faced your fears and you conquered them. And when the little nursing student who watched the whole thing from the corner of the room looks at you and says "How in the world did you stay so calm?"  you will realize that you have become the nurse that you always hoped to be. The nurse that appears calm when all heck is breaking loose and you are secretly terrified.

So yes, new nurse. There are things that scare me. There will always be things that scare me because when you work in a profession that requires you to give so much of yourself, there is always the risk of getting hurt. And that is scary. There is always a risk of losing a patient. But we go back day after day and we do it all over again.  That is what it means to be a nurse. 

My Darling Sunbeams

For the past year I have had the chance to teach the sunbeams in my ward. For those not familiar with that, they are the three year olds. They are adorable. They are darling. They are a handful. They are loud. They are crazy, ambitious, smart, and flat out beautiful. And I am going to miss them so much! Today was my last day as a sunbeam teacher. I can't believe I'm moving back to a singles ward. Going back to relief society and sunday school is gonna be a hard transition! But back to the point. My beautiful, crazy sunbeams have taught me so much in the last year. They remind us of the basics every single day. They get so excited to see popcorn trees, blow bubbles and color pictures for mom and dad. They know that their Heavenly Father loves them. They are so close to the veil and I wonder what they know that we don't.

We are learning a song this year called "I Know That My Savior Loves Me". The words are beautiful. Watching these sweet young children sing these words brings me to tears almost every time. Hearing them yell the only words they remember "I KNOW HE LIVES!" is the best. I love their sweet little spirits. I love their willingness to share, their willingness to help. If they don't get a turn to help in sharing time, it is a tragedy. These little children have stolen my heart and I'm going to miss watching them grow.

Our lessons last about ten minutes, then we color, play, blow bubbles and have a fun time. This sunday I had our three cute girls and they couldn't sit still for longer than two minutes, so we had a dance party instead:) 

Christmas

Christmas is my favorite time of year. I love the lights, the spirit of the season. Sitting in junior primary will really help you get in the Christmas mood. We are learning the song, Picture A Christmas. "Picture a stable in Judea. Picture a sacred, silent night. And Can you hear the angels near and see the star so bright? Picture the little baby Jesus. Think of his life and words so dear. Sing praise to Him, remember Him as you picture Christmas this year." This song is not one that I usually listen to at Christmas time. But as we've been learning it I've come to love it. I focuses us on the true meaning of Christmas, a little child born in Bethlehem and laid in a manger.

Today the kids were asked what their favorite song about Jesus was. After my rambunctious sunbeams sang "Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam" (twice), we sang "I'm trying to be like Jesus" and "A Child's Prayer". Sitting in primary will really teach you how to feel the spirit of these special children. They know that their Heavenly Father loves them. They know that he answers their prayers and will hear them when they need him. They have learned this through Primary teachers but also from their parents. They know so much about our Savior and they are always willing to help out whenever needed. They really want to become like him. Every one of my sunbeams can point Jesus out to you in pictures. Every time we ask them what we talked about they say "Jesus!" And they are so excited about it.

I was able to go to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas Concert this last weekend. It was incredible. They were able to portray the wonder of Christmas through the eyes of a child. The spirit was so strong in that room. The special children that were able to participate brought such a great happiness. They sang one song titled "Keep Christmas With You" that reminds us that Christmas is a feeling. It is a feeling of giving, of remembering and of love.

I hope that as we go throughout the rest of this Christmas season we can focus on the true meaning of Christmas and remember Him as we picture our Christmas this year.