I Survived

Recently my parents asked me if I wanted to include anything personal at the bottom of my graduation announcements. I’m sure the company was implying something like “thanks so much to everyone who has helped me get this far” and all that jazz, but all I could really think to write was “I survived” which my mother didn’t find nearly as amusing as I did.

At the end of the day, and more realistically the semester, that really is my goal- survival. To make it one more semester without being close to academic probation. This isn’t because I’m lazy, even though I am. It’s not because I don’t like my classes. It’s simply because nursing school is HARD. There is a lot of information being crammed into my head on a daily basis, and I mostly pray and spend a lot of time studying in hopes that the important parts will stick. Apparently enough of it has.

For instance, last night I dreamt that my 95 year old grandmother experienced a textbook stroke right in front of my eyes. She started acting funny and immediately my mind went “Face, Arm, Speech, Time… TIME! WHAT TIME IS IT?” That’s the acronym for strokes- FAST. It’s important to note the time because that can make life or death difference in treatment options. As she was experiencing this stroke, she fell and hit her head, breaking her skull (ok, ok, so I have some strange dreams- I promise this is no reflection of how I feel about my grandmother). Miraculously she was still okay, (to which I thought, She’s 95! How has she survived this!) and while her skull was fractured, I knew it wasn’t the occipital bone. I can remember saying “at least it’s not the occipital, she’s got a great occipital.” I called 911 and can remember chewing out the EMTs because it took them so long to arrive, telling them that I would sue if we discovered she was suffering from a cerebral hemorrhage, because time is of the essence.

Clearly, I’m learning some of this info. I also need to stop having such vivid dreams.

bloggity blog blog

Here's the deal. I wish I was more creative at blogging. I love reading blogs. I read blogs from people I'm related to, people I miss, people I've never even met. But, I suck at blogging. I know that. Often, I really don't think I have anything interesting to say, and if I'm not interested, I'm sure other people won't be either. I also read a lot of REALLY GREAT blogs, which makes me feel like my blogs should be great too. I'm a good writer, blogging should come naturally, right?

wrong.

Rarely do I use the creative side of my brain. Throughout college, I've tried to take at least one class a semester that kept me reading and writing, but even so, I fear I've lost the ability to articulate through words what I'm thinking in a way that other people can understand, and find interesting. I've noticed over the years that my vocabulary has suffered since I've stopped reading literature. There are many times that I know there is a word I'm looking for, but have no idea what it is. At one point, I knew it, now- gone. Thank God I don't have to take the GRE- that would be ugly.

So just start reading again, Vickie, that's the simple solution. I wish with all of my heart that I had the time and brainpower to be able to read anything other than Perez. On Friday, I had lunch with the Board of Directors. The President of the VU Guild asked me what I do for fun on campus... and I didn't have an answer. It's not that I'm NOT having fun, or that I don't enjoy life, I just hardly ever do anything just because it sounds fun. I honestly don't have the time. This makes me all the more grateful that I can make pretty much anything fun- even office hours. I laugh more on Fridays with elle dub, Nikki and Micah than I do most other days, and I'm so glad I can count on that. I'm over-committed and I realize that. Maybe after this year, my mentality will no longer be "oh, I CAN do that, so why wouldn't I?" and I'm really hoping that I stop trying to be responsible for everything. Being a leader is great and all, but so incredibly draining.

Needless to say, I'm looking forward to working full time. Who would have thought that a 40-hour work week would give me more free time?

And I guess that's an attempt an a blog post. Maybe someone will find it interesting.

This Thanksgiving I am thankful for...

-the many, many people in my life who help block out the stress and worry of the real world.
-Friday office hours in Kretzmann with Elle Dub and Nikki. (and Micah, who will do anything I ask without complaining, and otherwise keeps us entertained and sane)
-the ability to write a killer paper the night before it's due, knowing that it's probably better than most of my classmates.
-friends who give me shit and don't let me forget how ridiculous I can be.
-a boy who will tell his friends he's busy when I've had a rough week so that we can eat cheese, watch movies and doesn't make fun of me for going to bed early.
-my competitive nature.
-people who care about my father and bring joy to his life daily.
-a church family who welcomes my mom with open arms for any and all holidays.
- the water in all places except Valpo that makes my hair really soft.
-Mat Kearney who reminds me of the greatness of life in Portland
-feeling love from multiple people in every time zone.
-a church family of my own, who keep me accountable and remind me how great fellowship can be.
-one semester and three weeks left in my educational career.
-that spending time with other people's families reminds me that every family is a little strange.
-siblings who remind me that I can always be a better version of myself.
-GLEE

I am terrified of the next eight months.

I don’t know if you’ve met me, but I’m a type A planner- I like to know the details and the risks and rewards of everything before I make decisions. In those ways, I am my father’s daughter. For example, it is November, and I’m already stressing out about finding a job next year. So much is up in the air and I want in cemented down. Now. I want to be able to say “oh yeah, I’ll be moving to _______ to start my job at ____________ hospital on June ______________. They’re paying for my NCLEX review and I got a signing bonus, so I already have an apartment lined up.” I want to be able to know that I can pay my bills and won’t be overwhelmed with a new job, and that I’ll be able to afford flying back to Oregon for weddings to celebrate with my friends and all of that. I want to know that I’ll be working for a hospital that believes in training new nurses to give the best patient care possible, and that in a few years, they’ll be willing to pay for me to go back to school to get my masters.

I want to feel confident that the next semester won’t eat me alive, and I won’t get annihilated by the exit exam. (I would also enjoy being able to register for next semester at some point.) I want to be reaffirmed that I do know what I’m doing and that I’ll be a really good nurse, that I picked the right profession.

But, none of this is the case. I AM terrified, simply because I won’t stop and let go. I say that it’s all in God’s hands, when I know I’m trying my hardest to control everything. I say that I’m trusting in Him that it will all work out and I’ll be happy, but my stress proves otherwise.

So the goal for the next few weeks is to stop trying to be God. Study for exams. Enjoy life and the blessings I’ve been given today. Encourage other people to find joy in the saddest of days (or maybe just the rainy ones.) Spend time with the people I love. Relax.

Because God is here. He always has been, and He always will be.


p.s. Did I pick the right profession? Grey’s Anatomy said it best last week:

"These are tiny humans. These are children. They believe in magic; they play pretend. There is fairy dust in their IV bags. They hope, and they cross their fingers and they make wishes, and that makes them more resilient than adults. They recover faster, survive worse. They believe. In Peds, we have miracles, and magic. In Peds, anything is possible."

I should be studying…

But that’s pretty much the story of my life. Hard to believe that in a few short months I won’t ever have to study again. (probably not true, but at least for a while)

When I was little, I remember “running away” when I got mad or felt like no one cared about me. It usually consisted of going across the street to the park or down to Candace’s house, and I would forget why I left after a while of playing. There was one time, however, that I distinctly remember packing a bag, yelling “I’M RUNNING AWAY FOR-EV-ER” and sitting behind the tree at the end of our driveway, waiting to see if anyone actually cared that I had left. No one came to look for me.

Now, to be fair, I was definitely a drama queen when I was little, so I’m not sure that I would have taken me seriously either- but all I really wanted was to know that someone cared that I was leaving. After a while it started raining, so I wandered back into the house, completely dejected.

This last summer I felt the same way.

I went home because I’d been offered the job of a lifetime (which I LOVED, and wouldn’t have traded for the world, even if it means I’ll have a harder time finding an actual nursing job next year) and I figured my parents wanted to spend time with me. I had decided while in high school that I never wanted to live on my own- my own room, yes, my own apartment or house, never. Coming home to an empty house and knowing it will stay that way is pretty much the most depressing thing ever. I’m not an incredibly social person, and I don’t need to talk through everything I experience with other people, but I love watching tv with people, eating with people and doing absolutely nothing with people. I spent this summer doing all of that with dogs. I spent more nights alone in an empty house than ever before, and could probably count on my ten fingers the number of times I sat down for a “family” dinner.

So when I don’t come back to live there next year, they shouldn’t be surprised. They didn’t care that I was around then, so they shouldn’t now. Will I miss people? Certainly- my extended family out there (friends and coworkers) are absolutely amazing, and if I could live in Portland without having family there, I would. I love Oregon, but it won’t be my “home” again.

This is strange because I was so ready and looking forward to being home last May when school got out. It was what I felt I needed to be who I wanted to be- but I guess that’s a part of growing up. The summer before it felt like home. This year, I felt like a guest in the houses I grew up in. I knew that when I left West Linn 3 years ago, things would never be the same, I guess I just didn’t realize how fast that would change. I remember looking at my siblings and the few friends they had kept in contact with from Oregon and thinking that won’t be me, I love my friends here! and yet over time, relationships fade. It takes work to stay in touch with people- even in the age of facebook and text messaging. College students are busy people, myself included, and staying in contact gets harder and harder the more involved we get.

I want to look forward to going “home” and seeing people. If I lived there, that wouldn’t be the case.

Killing Time on the Clock

Max has learned that it’s unnecessary to get off my bed until my alarm has gone off for the 4th time. I suppose that means I really need to stop hitting the snooze button. I don’t know why I have such a hard time getting up in the mornings, especially since I’m not out late or anything. I suppose part of the problem is that my mind is unable to shut down no matter what time it is. In the last few days, the best way to fall asleep has been to start praying- completely ironic since I’m teaching my junior highers about the importance of being fully present- the ability to fully engage God.

I can hear Bill Towne laughing and it makes me smile. For the first time in years, I’m not ashamed of the direction in which my church is headed. It’s going to be hard, and take some time and dedication, but I believe with all of my heart that Rolling Hills is capable of doing great things in this community in the name of Jesus.

Calling this “home” feels like such an oxymoron to me. I love being in Oregon- surrounded by God’s great creation and a lot of people I love, but at the same time, home doesn’t feel like somewhere I belong anymore. I don’t even look forward to sleeping in my own bed anymore.

I’ve run out of excuses for places to go after graduation. Guess God’s really pushing this whole “Only God knows, and that’s the way I like it” response I keep giving people when they ask.

The bathtub in my bathroom at Dad’s house has the ability to groom the biggest spiders I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I think I’ll name the newest one Peter Parker. I don’t know what they live off of, or how they get as big as they do, but as long as they stay in the bathtub (and I’ve convinced myself that they do) then I’m fine with sharing my house with them. The giant spider crawling across the inside of my mother’s windshield however- not quite as lucky. Quickly pulled over to take care of that one- it was very distracting trying to make sure it didn’t get too close to me, and I didn’t want to ruin my perfect driving record for a stupid spider.

Be still and know that I AM God.

I love Thursdays in the office because no one else is around. I LOVE the people that I work with, but it’s hard to get much work done when they’re all there. (Wednesday was spent remaking Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On” for the sex series that HSM is doing) One of the joys of working at a church, is that since Sunday is a work day, the end of the week tends to be pretty slow and empty, especially in the Swamp.

So I started the day looking at different curriculum for the teaching that I’ll be doing during July, and one of the series is called PAUSE. As I was reading more about it, I realized that it was not only what I wanted to teach on, but also what I, personally, needed to hear.

The first week is called “breathe” and it talks about how in today’s world, we rarely have time to stop and breathe. I feel like for me during this last year that has definitely been the case. Between classes that were kicking my ass, dance, working more than I probably should have been, the addition of SNA and it’s responsibilities, attempting to have a social life and dealing with serious relationship issues- I’m exhausted- completely exhausted.

I feel like this is that abnormal- I’m usually pretty tired by the end of the school year, but this year was much worse than in years past- probably because I stretched myself so thin. Sadly, my responsibilities aren’t really going to decrease for next year, aside from not having to worry about a relationship. I don’t have time to do that all over again anyway.

I think a lot of why I’m so tired at the end of the school year is that I’m not being spiritually fed while I’m there. I know that a lot of this is my own fault, because I should be seeking time spent with God, and making my own personal sanctuaries, but I think part of it is also that I feel so out of place since I’m not a Lutheran. I feel like I’m constantly having to defend what I believe and how I think, and it’s tiring to do that all of the time.

It’s not that I don’t love Valpo because I definitely do- I wouldn’t have wanted to go to school anywhere else. And I very much love my friends there- I certainly feel loved- but there’s just something that’s missing, and I haven’t quite figured out what it is.

So I guess that’s my goal for the summer- figure out some sort of way to manage everything that I’m responsible for and still feel fulfilled and satisfied spiritually. Until then I need to remember to Be still, and know that He is God. It's only when I try to do it all on my own that I seem to be exhausted. I have a lot going on during the summers, but never seem to be as tired, because I do a much better job of remembering that I am most effective and least stressed when I'm not the one in control.