I have an affinity for anniversaries. Whether of beautiful occasions or of times of deep sorrow and suffering, I find myself often reflecting back on the person I was, the metamorphosis that occurred as a result of the event, and the person I have become and continue to become as a result. We are evolutionary, after all. We are who we are because of the lives that we live and how we absorb our experiences.
The benefit of anniversaries comes in being able to look back with a wider, more clear perspective of the person we were at that time that such an event took place. In the moment we are tunnel visioned on the event itself. We can see only what is before us. In joy, this is euphoric and intoxicating. In despair, however it is paralyzing. Knowing that life continues to roll on with all the good, bad and ugly is imperative and hopefully stabilizing.
As I approach the anniversary of a tremendous milestone in my life, I reflect on the person I was. I remember her through memories played in my mind like the cloudy, static reels of an old home movie. I remember the conversations I had with myself and the thoughts I consciously tried to block. I remember the fatalistic view I had of myself, yet the naivety I seemed to hold for the dangers in the misdeeds of others. I remember the exact moment when a new me was born.
All of these years later, that date still hits me like the wrecking ball that it was. The sadness I feel is not for who I am, but rather who I was. Tragedy of all kinds, does that; it brings new life through the death of an old one. Letting go of who we were to become who we are, is terrifying and uncharted.
Today, I embrace my nowness, knowing that at any time, a new reality may take over. I celebrate the randomness of life and the future anniversaries, both of joy and sorrow that are hiding around the corner. I honor the life experiences I have ridden through and continue to ride through as glorious shades on the color wheel of who I am. I am thankful for it all. I am not a victim in life, I am a product of living.
Sunday, September 16, 2018
Wednesday, July 4, 2018
Climb Every Mountain
In my past life I was not the biggest fan of the outdoors. The heat, dirt and bugs- not to mention all of the hidden critters, some slithery, some potentially rabid, were enough to make me a confirmed lover of the safe, comfortable shelter of my cozy, upholstered lifestyle, complete with monogrammed tea towels. I learned quite nicely how to navigate the days, weeks and years in my climate controlled atmosphere.
What I did not know as the "Queen of the Suburban Castle on the Hill," was that despite the color coordinated bath mats and the simmering potpourri on the stove top, I was still surrounded by heat, dirt, bugs and critters with bad intentions. As the rose colored glass began to crack, slowly at first, and then with the rapid pulverizing crush of infinity's weight, the ideal of my imagined sanctuary began to disintegrate. Perhaps not surprisingly, it was not so long after that I discovered the beauty awaiting on the other side of the door.
When that door was opened for me, (very much so, against my wishes, mind you) I found myself at the foot of the most enormous mountain I ever could imagine. What I was being told to climb would be impossible for anyone, let alone a channel surfing, pleasantly plump air conditioner goddess. Interestingly, it seems, I would really have no choice but to take part in the hike. There really was no opting out, because if there were, I would most assuredly have chosen that route.
As I began the steep assent, I realized I would not be on the journey alone. I became a sponge to what others were teaching me. I quickly learned that the people and experiences that are placed in our lives are not accidental. There are no coincidences. Listen to everything, especially when you doubt a lesson can be gleaned. It is during these times when the largest rewards are reaped.
Slowly, I began to get dirty. I learned how to camp. I learned how to go to sleep listening to the wind brushing against the branches of the trees and wake up to the sound of squirrels playing hide and seek as the birds welcomed the new day. I learned that one could go from taping daily episodes of the Young & the Restless to being content with watching the way a fire dances around burning logs; that it is not destruction, but rather beauty and new creation.
I learned that if you go to a waterfall when you are feeling broken-hearted and worthless, she will speak to you as if she were your momma if you quiet your soul enough to listen. She will tell you that you are traveling the path you are meant to travel, that there are countless ways to get to the final destination, and although some have a straighter shot than others, we are all water and as water, we will all flow freely.
As I continued my way up the mountain, one night I found myself more exhausted than I could remember being since this journey had begun. Weary and sore from the hike, I lowered myself to the ground and began to cry in my hands. I was alone, but I was embarrassed and ashamed that I was having such a lapse of the strength that was not only expected of me, but had become required.
Internally, as I began to chastise my weakness, the shadow from the enormous tree that I sat a few feet from enveloped me. The cast was so strong that I immediately felt my skin begin to cool and I took notice of the tree's massive presence. The tree had an enormous trunk with thick, rough bark. The branches were massive in their own right and spanned what seemed like miles in every direction. There was no rhyme or reason to the way this tree's branches grew but it was evident that they had continued to grow beautifully and randomly despite the extreme temperatures and storms that the tree had lived through. Lastly, I took note of the tree's roots. The roots were giant and spidery, extending far from the base. Without these roots, the tree would have toppled over long ago. In that moment I learned what I believe to be the greatest lesson in my climb thus far. We cannot always control the way that our branches twist and turn, but if we remain rooted in what it is that is truly important, then we will be beautiful and we WILL be STRONG.
Throughout my climb, I have been fortunate enough to be able to share a portion of my journey with different trail guides. Through their music, art and beautiful conversation I have seen my steps hasten upward as my heart has been strengthened by their soul's wisdom. With every interaction, I have retained a spiritual souvenir from that guide to assist in my onward assent. I will forever be changed by the moments another took to share with me who they are. I am better because of our time together.
I have been climbing this mountain for awhile now, and I am tired. As I rest to catch my breath and see how far I have come, I must admit, I am impressed with my progress. After all, it was an un-climable mountain! Yet, the distance that lie ahead is as further than what can be imagined.
Step by step.
Rock by rock.
Song by song.
Flow by flow.
I will get there.
Thursday, November 30, 2017
Cheers to the Crunchy Bits
I'm a 40 year old work in progress; a one step forward, two steps back kind of girl. Every day I wake up realizing I have indeed made it to a new morning and this life that I have been plopped in the middle of, is still my world to navigate through. In the flurry of movement sometimes I must accept that the endless activity is no more than futile attempts to gain ground but sometimes I learn that, I am, in fact going forward.
I purport to know very little. Truly. I am a second guesser and skeptic in most things. I am deeply committed to self doubt, somewhat committed to self loathing and on the fence about just about all else, however, I have had real and beautiful observations of the world in which I live and I hang onto those observations as the life preserver that they are for me in the tumultuous waters that I struggle each day not to drown in.
So folks, here is what I know-
We all have those "crunchy bits" of who we are tucked within our jovial, shiny wrapping, that have a tendency to come out and poke us when we are least ready to deal with them. We are the sum of all of the parts of our life experiences, crunchy or not, and it is that very totality that makes us wondrous and beautiful. Without our less palatable pieces, we are nothing more than pleasant cookie cutter cyborgs with no mystery and no depth. Attempting to whitewash away the imperfections in our characters and our lives, is really kind of silly. Own the crunchy bits, accept them, and love the people in your life with more of their fair share of their own crunchy bits, because God knows they need it.
That being said, at some point we all need to endeavor to be greater than we currently are, and in that, our desire should be to attempt to soften out the sharp edges of who we are. To be a completely whole person, we must strive towards that wholeness and not simply wallow in our flaws and misery like a mutant pig bathing in septic sludge. Today we are broken, tomorrow we will be less so, and perhaps, in time to come we can begin to resemble an illusion of patched together wholeness if we squint our eyes just right and tilt our head towards the sun. So we continue on.
I am an absolute expert at imperfection, and I am more than grateful for the people in my life who continue to love me and support my heart, mind and soul despite that fact. In turn, I want to be that steadfast person to my fellow crunchy-bitted people. In me, you will always have a rallying fan.
Until.
Love can happen in silence and distance.
Peace.
I purport to know very little. Truly. I am a second guesser and skeptic in most things. I am deeply committed to self doubt, somewhat committed to self loathing and on the fence about just about all else, however, I have had real and beautiful observations of the world in which I live and I hang onto those observations as the life preserver that they are for me in the tumultuous waters that I struggle each day not to drown in.
So folks, here is what I know-
We all have those "crunchy bits" of who we are tucked within our jovial, shiny wrapping, that have a tendency to come out and poke us when we are least ready to deal with them. We are the sum of all of the parts of our life experiences, crunchy or not, and it is that very totality that makes us wondrous and beautiful. Without our less palatable pieces, we are nothing more than pleasant cookie cutter cyborgs with no mystery and no depth. Attempting to whitewash away the imperfections in our characters and our lives, is really kind of silly. Own the crunchy bits, accept them, and love the people in your life with more of their fair share of their own crunchy bits, because God knows they need it.
That being said, at some point we all need to endeavor to be greater than we currently are, and in that, our desire should be to attempt to soften out the sharp edges of who we are. To be a completely whole person, we must strive towards that wholeness and not simply wallow in our flaws and misery like a mutant pig bathing in septic sludge. Today we are broken, tomorrow we will be less so, and perhaps, in time to come we can begin to resemble an illusion of patched together wholeness if we squint our eyes just right and tilt our head towards the sun. So we continue on.
I am an absolute expert at imperfection, and I am more than grateful for the people in my life who continue to love me and support my heart, mind and soul despite that fact. In turn, I want to be that steadfast person to my fellow crunchy-bitted people. In me, you will always have a rallying fan.
Until.
Love can happen in silence and distance.
Peace.
Friday, March 25, 2016
Resurrection
In the Christian faith, Easter is celebrated as a time to recall the moment when Jesus Christ miraculously rose from the dead after being brutally crucified on a cross. He died amongst violence and humiliation. His death, though horrifically dramatic, was not His end, but the rather the apex of His legacy to His supporters then, and all who have vowed to follow Him since. Christians believe that because He chose to accept that death, the door to eternal life has been unlocked and made accessible to all those who wish to enter.
We are welcomed into this Easter season as the frigid winter temperatures become more temperate and new sprigs of greenery and blossoms dot the landscapes. The barren and bleak skies slowly start to house rays of sunshine and sweet melodies of birds that have been vacationing on other locales over the past several months. Tentatively at first, but then with rapid fire succession, spring ushers in NEW LIFE.
Whether one aligns their belief with Christianity or not, the notion that rebirth can occur after death, is the very hope that comes from spring; an annual reminder from a season that just when you believe that the cold darkness is a forever reality, a glimmer of light can break way and spark new and beautiful growth. The lesson in the Resurrection and the new life of spring reaches far beyond the death of Jesus and the sprouting tulips that replace the frost covered ground. We should be reminded that personal resurrection can and will occur in our own lives should we allow ourselves to be made better from the brokenness of life, rather than be destroyed by it.
From the time we draw our very first breaths, we are set on a journey of life and learning that will see us die and hopefully be resurrected a multitude of times. The idea of dying a thousand deaths certainly does not seem appealing to any of us, but it is what we gain from those deaths that is the blessing of personal resurrection and new growth. Rebuilding and renewing, just as the Phoenix rises from the ash, is how one finds strength and beauty deep within, in a place that could never had been uncovered without tragedy and heartache. It is through this suffering that we can be made more whole.
As we travel the winding, bumpy road that is our life's journey, we will surely encounter detours that at times may feel like roadblocks that will stop us from moving forward. These unexpected, unwelcome setbacks may come in the form of personal illness, the death of a loved one, financial hardship or the end of a love that was meant to last forever. Being faced with such devastating trauma feels like the death of a soul, and can lead one to question how they could possibly continue the journey. With such devastating derailments to our reality, these changes can lead to having to say goodbye to the person we once were. A choice is to be made, just as Christ had a choice. Do we choose to accept the cross? Do we choose to ride again?
Accepting the death of a life that once was, is not a given nor is it a comfortable process to undertake, but it is in that bold acceptance where personal resurrection begins to take root. Allowing ourselves to be transformed out of the darkness to a place of light is removing the stone from our tomb and rising up. We certainly cannot always control our circumstances, yet learning to recognize our hardships as opportunities to grow and renew means that no suffering is in vain, and perhaps, in time, we even find thanksgiving in the challenge.
When trudging along in the midst of winter, it is impossible to imagine that one day soon, in the not so distant future, delicate daffodils will become plentiful in our sight. As the seasons change, the new growth begins to take beautiful hold. A blossoming of all that we could not fathom before, becomes commonplace and expected. Our scenery is new and fresh, as is our outlook. As are WE.
In this Easter season, may the cross serve as a poignant reminder to us all, not only of the death Jesus Christ so willingly accepted so that we might have eternal life, but also as a symbol to ourselves of our own day to day struggles and heartbreaks, and the resurrection of spirit that will explode in vibrant blossoms at the change of the season.
We are welcomed into this Easter season as the frigid winter temperatures become more temperate and new sprigs of greenery and blossoms dot the landscapes. The barren and bleak skies slowly start to house rays of sunshine and sweet melodies of birds that have been vacationing on other locales over the past several months. Tentatively at first, but then with rapid fire succession, spring ushers in NEW LIFE.
Whether one aligns their belief with Christianity or not, the notion that rebirth can occur after death, is the very hope that comes from spring; an annual reminder from a season that just when you believe that the cold darkness is a forever reality, a glimmer of light can break way and spark new and beautiful growth. The lesson in the Resurrection and the new life of spring reaches far beyond the death of Jesus and the sprouting tulips that replace the frost covered ground. We should be reminded that personal resurrection can and will occur in our own lives should we allow ourselves to be made better from the brokenness of life, rather than be destroyed by it.
From the time we draw our very first breaths, we are set on a journey of life and learning that will see us die and hopefully be resurrected a multitude of times. The idea of dying a thousand deaths certainly does not seem appealing to any of us, but it is what we gain from those deaths that is the blessing of personal resurrection and new growth. Rebuilding and renewing, just as the Phoenix rises from the ash, is how one finds strength and beauty deep within, in a place that could never had been uncovered without tragedy and heartache. It is through this suffering that we can be made more whole.
As we travel the winding, bumpy road that is our life's journey, we will surely encounter detours that at times may feel like roadblocks that will stop us from moving forward. These unexpected, unwelcome setbacks may come in the form of personal illness, the death of a loved one, financial hardship or the end of a love that was meant to last forever. Being faced with such devastating trauma feels like the death of a soul, and can lead one to question how they could possibly continue the journey. With such devastating derailments to our reality, these changes can lead to having to say goodbye to the person we once were. A choice is to be made, just as Christ had a choice. Do we choose to accept the cross? Do we choose to ride again?
Accepting the death of a life that once was, is not a given nor is it a comfortable process to undertake, but it is in that bold acceptance where personal resurrection begins to take root. Allowing ourselves to be transformed out of the darkness to a place of light is removing the stone from our tomb and rising up. We certainly cannot always control our circumstances, yet learning to recognize our hardships as opportunities to grow and renew means that no suffering is in vain, and perhaps, in time, we even find thanksgiving in the challenge.
When trudging along in the midst of winter, it is impossible to imagine that one day soon, in the not so distant future, delicate daffodils will become plentiful in our sight. As the seasons change, the new growth begins to take beautiful hold. A blossoming of all that we could not fathom before, becomes commonplace and expected. Our scenery is new and fresh, as is our outlook. As are WE.
In this Easter season, may the cross serve as a poignant reminder to us all, not only of the death Jesus Christ so willingly accepted so that we might have eternal life, but also as a symbol to ourselves of our own day to day struggles and heartbreaks, and the resurrection of spirit that will explode in vibrant blossoms at the change of the season.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
Eye Has Not Seen
Faith is that which you know for certain to be true, though you have not seen it with your eyes.
For two years I have been told by many that I should write the story of my survival and testimony. My response has always been the same. I cannot write a story that I do not have an ending to. This thought was challenged this weekend during a chance encounter.
My path crossed with a missionary on Saturday. I had encountered this person briefly in the past and found them to have a gentle spirit and to be very easy to talk to. During our very brief conversation this weekend, they revealed to me, that it is among their goals to teach people to share their testimonies in one minute. I initially volunteered that I didn't believe my testimony was complete, as my story is still evolving. They responded with the assertion that there exists inside of us all a testimony that can be revealed in a minute. I laughed. "My" story could never be contained in such a time limit. Not knowing my history, the missionary very lovingly assured me that the crux of what was important could be said in a minute. I have since been haunted by the calm persistence in the words that I heard.
It occurred to me some time later that I had done just that, unknowingly. I had shared my "come to Jesus" moment in one minute, probably less, exactly one week prior to that day. It was a conversation I had never had with anyone before, but on that night, for some reason, I shared the exact moment in my life when God became real and not theory to me.
In less than one minute, I share with you today.
My life was changed in an instant by a telephone call. As I hung up the phone, I became paralyzed. A supernatural feeling of fear and anxiety washed over me to the point that I could not breathe or move my limbs. Every part of my mind and body was entrapped in the hell and I could not escape. I was terrified in a way that even now, looking back I can not imagine.
And then, at once, it happened. My heart was overcome by the most serene feeling of calm and comfort. Not through words, but through His peace, I was told to breathe, to move, and that everything would be okay. I was not alone and I would be guided and protected. So move I did, and have been doing since that day, under His guidance and protection, as promised.
And that is it. That is when I came to know; not to believe- but to know.
I know that my I am thriving as a result of God's work through me. In the moment I realized I had no control in my life, I surrendered myself to be an instrument in His hands. He has wielded me to do beautiful things and make glorious strides, and as a forever grateful child of His, I have availed myself to stretch further than I ever imagined I could. It is because of the peace He infused in my heart that afternoon, that I have discovered a joy within myself that I never knew existed.
The world is full of people who can reason and speculate away what I know to be true. My knowledge is not based upon scientific data or algorithms studied by geniuses. My assurance comes from a truth that was revealed out of sight, in a place where the answers are clear even if the mind cannot explain.
For two years I have been told by many that I should write the story of my survival and testimony. My response has always been the same. I cannot write a story that I do not have an ending to. This thought was challenged this weekend during a chance encounter.
My path crossed with a missionary on Saturday. I had encountered this person briefly in the past and found them to have a gentle spirit and to be very easy to talk to. During our very brief conversation this weekend, they revealed to me, that it is among their goals to teach people to share their testimonies in one minute. I initially volunteered that I didn't believe my testimony was complete, as my story is still evolving. They responded with the assertion that there exists inside of us all a testimony that can be revealed in a minute. I laughed. "My" story could never be contained in such a time limit. Not knowing my history, the missionary very lovingly assured me that the crux of what was important could be said in a minute. I have since been haunted by the calm persistence in the words that I heard.
It occurred to me some time later that I had done just that, unknowingly. I had shared my "come to Jesus" moment in one minute, probably less, exactly one week prior to that day. It was a conversation I had never had with anyone before, but on that night, for some reason, I shared the exact moment in my life when God became real and not theory to me.
In less than one minute, I share with you today.
My life was changed in an instant by a telephone call. As I hung up the phone, I became paralyzed. A supernatural feeling of fear and anxiety washed over me to the point that I could not breathe or move my limbs. Every part of my mind and body was entrapped in the hell and I could not escape. I was terrified in a way that even now, looking back I can not imagine.
And then, at once, it happened. My heart was overcome by the most serene feeling of calm and comfort. Not through words, but through His peace, I was told to breathe, to move, and that everything would be okay. I was not alone and I would be guided and protected. So move I did, and have been doing since that day, under His guidance and protection, as promised.
And that is it. That is when I came to know; not to believe- but to know.
I know that my I am thriving as a result of God's work through me. In the moment I realized I had no control in my life, I surrendered myself to be an instrument in His hands. He has wielded me to do beautiful things and make glorious strides, and as a forever grateful child of His, I have availed myself to stretch further than I ever imagined I could. It is because of the peace He infused in my heart that afternoon, that I have discovered a joy within myself that I never knew existed.
The world is full of people who can reason and speculate away what I know to be true. My knowledge is not based upon scientific data or algorithms studied by geniuses. My assurance comes from a truth that was revealed out of sight, in a place where the answers are clear even if the mind cannot explain.
Monday, August 24, 2015
Still, I'll Choose to Love
It has taken me a lifetime to not make excuses for being authentically me. Through like minded souls, I have come to learn that what once I saw as a flaw, is truly a gift. Blessed to be taught by the hearts of others with similar philosophies, this is what I know:
We are the unabashed lovers.
When we walk through the threshold, it is obvious that our hearts proceed our bodies as introductions are made. We peer deep into others eyes searching for clues as to what makes our new friend beautiful. We have not been introduced to a stranger, for to us, the word does not exist. There is an unmade connection behind every face. This is a certainty.
We ask questions because we care. We want to know you and we want to love you. We see the finite world that exists and we believe that traveling it with you makes our world more intimate and beautiful. When you break, we too will break. When you succeed, we will rejoice with you.
We very seldom accept evil as a possibility and as a result often put ourselves in harms way. We are firm believers in the silver lining that shines through clouds and will crawl on our hands and knees through the mud to ensure that it is seen in all people. Sometimes it is found, quite often not. Tattered through the disappointment, we remain hopeful that perhaps, somehow we simply have missed the beauty and light that must exist even still. We are criticized unendlessly for wasting our time on ungiving spirits, yet we know, that it is those hearts that offer the greatest return to our own should they one day soften. So we remain.
We understand your warnings; we are not an ignorant tribe. We are led by our hearts, sometimes exclusively, rather than our minds. It is what makes us us. It is why we have glorious, life-long connections and why we are regularly tormented by those who have let us down. We recognize that there is another way, but it is this language where our fluency will flourish. We are not ridiculous or naive. We understand the risks. We always have. The potential return for ourselves and others on our investment is worth the gamble.
Yes, fiercely we will love. With every fiber of our humanity we will love. And we will be loved by many.
But on that day, (and these days will come as surely as the sun warms the earth) that we realize our hearts have been dismissed and disregarded, we will stand up as strongly and fiercely as we tried to love. We will gather our scuffed spirits and nurture all that has been damaged within us. Because we love, we love ourselves, too. And we will love again.
Do not look upon us with pity or with a need to counsel us into a thicker, more discriminating skin. Perhaps, we have been doing love right all along. With our final breaths, we will assuredly rest in the realized dream that we loved with our full hearts.
We are the unabashed lovers.
When we walk through the threshold, it is obvious that our hearts proceed our bodies as introductions are made. We peer deep into others eyes searching for clues as to what makes our new friend beautiful. We have not been introduced to a stranger, for to us, the word does not exist. There is an unmade connection behind every face. This is a certainty.
We ask questions because we care. We want to know you and we want to love you. We see the finite world that exists and we believe that traveling it with you makes our world more intimate and beautiful. When you break, we too will break. When you succeed, we will rejoice with you.
We very seldom accept evil as a possibility and as a result often put ourselves in harms way. We are firm believers in the silver lining that shines through clouds and will crawl on our hands and knees through the mud to ensure that it is seen in all people. Sometimes it is found, quite often not. Tattered through the disappointment, we remain hopeful that perhaps, somehow we simply have missed the beauty and light that must exist even still. We are criticized unendlessly for wasting our time on ungiving spirits, yet we know, that it is those hearts that offer the greatest return to our own should they one day soften. So we remain.
We understand your warnings; we are not an ignorant tribe. We are led by our hearts, sometimes exclusively, rather than our minds. It is what makes us us. It is why we have glorious, life-long connections and why we are regularly tormented by those who have let us down. We recognize that there is another way, but it is this language where our fluency will flourish. We are not ridiculous or naive. We understand the risks. We always have. The potential return for ourselves and others on our investment is worth the gamble.
Yes, fiercely we will love. With every fiber of our humanity we will love. And we will be loved by many.
But on that day, (and these days will come as surely as the sun warms the earth) that we realize our hearts have been dismissed and disregarded, we will stand up as strongly and fiercely as we tried to love. We will gather our scuffed spirits and nurture all that has been damaged within us. Because we love, we love ourselves, too. And we will love again.
Do not look upon us with pity or with a need to counsel us into a thicker, more discriminating skin. Perhaps, we have been doing love right all along. With our final breaths, we will assuredly rest in the realized dream that we loved with our full hearts.
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
An Open Letter to My Sisters in Blue
I do not believe in coincidence. I believe in purpose and the poetry that is life.
A little over two years ago, ladies, I was introduced to you- as a patient. I was facing what I was certain was going to be the most life defining moment I would ever encounter. As a patient, I was checked in by Toni, had my vitals taken by Sheryl, was consulted by Dr. Scarborough and Swan, sat in Jenny's office as she referred me to plastics and signed consents and went over pre-op with Kathy. I did what hundreds of our patients do every single week. But I was not any patient. I was me. I was scared and you showed me compassion and understanding. You coordinated my care with respect and love not because of who I was, but because of who YOU were; because that IS who you are.
Before my incisions had had time to heal, my world imploded and much deeper wounds were created. Suddenly, I was a single mother of 4 children with the responsibility of having to support myself and them with no job experience other than years as a preschool teacher. I was broken emotionally, I was weak physically and I had not a thing to offer you, but you you embraced me anyway. Because that is who YOU are.
Swan, you immediately recognized me as the patient who fell asleep in the exam room with my husband as we waited for you and Chuck to come into us. You recounted how badly you had felt for making us wait, but it had been a busy afternoon with many positive cases. I couldn't help but be at awe that you recalled with such detail an appointment that had happened months before; details that I had completely forgotten, until you reminded me.
Rachel, you were given the very unenviable task of training me. For what seemed like months, (I'm sure it was only a week or so) you patiently walked me through step by step every little nuance of the office. You shared with me the office dynamics and gave me heads up on the unspoken rules. I marveled at the grace you showed me and the strength that emanated from you as a mommy who had dealt with the pain of a seriously ill child.
Toni and Blanca, you tag teamed me with tough love, and I needed it. "Stay in your box." I will forever have the image of that sticky note stuck to the side of my computer in my mind. Indeed, important advice when working in the medical community, just as relevant in the rest of my life. I have used the metaphor time and again since that day.
Allison and Za, you were the sounding boards for the matters of my heart as I wound through the divorce process, struggled with raising my babies and began to date. My street cred was amped by Za as she gave me vocabulary lessons (I still have not recovered) and was offered the "Cone of Safety" by Allison. The words "no judgement" were uttered perhaps more than any other...well, and SABOTAGE.
Kathy and Roberta, I have required unending mothering over the past two years and you both have filled that role. As a 38 year old woman, I still crave a mother's hug and unfortunately need a mother's reprimand from time to time. It was with you that I felt most able to let the tears flow on the days I could no longer be strong, and with you I was reinforced and encouraged. Thank you.
Suzi, Lisa, Brandy, Sheryl, Kacie, Haley and April Showers,
I love you all. I love the laughs, the swirls in the chairs, the singing and dancing and the multiple blind date attempts that had me considering going into hiding. I love that you would chase me with post it notes and try and offer me free medical advice, solicited or otherwise. I love that every one of you have deep, personal experience with my bionic boobs and you never tired of examining, talking about them or advising me on how to handle those suckers- or maybe you did. Thanks for not letting on. The three of us appreciate your support greatly.
And of course the Vaginas, to include the entire Gyn/Onc team, First and for most, thank you for letting me refer to you as the Vaginas. I know it's unprofessional. I'm well aware. I can not help it. You are my people. I came to the office as a 36 year old, post menopausal, Brca 2 + woman who was living each day watching my beloved aunt die of ovarian cancer. You were my life line. You answered my persistent questions and invited me into your fold. You allowed me to participate in the work you do to raise awareness for Gyno cancers and allowed me to feel like I was honoring my aunts in doing so. Through you, I became more educated and passionate. Tara, you sought me out specifically when you knew I was concerned about a patient. That meant the world to me. Tricia, knee deep in charges, you danced with me in the front office. Nixie, thank you for always being concerned and interested. Renee and Jen, You both are angels in my eyes. For me and for countless other women and their families you have demystified cancer. What you two have is not something that could ever be taught in nursing or med school. I felt it as your friend and coworker, but your patients feel it every second of the day. Many of the ladies you see are in the fight of their lives, but because of you, they are blessed beyond measure. You are their light.
Yes, you are my Yellow Brick Road friends, as Dottie says. You have been people I have met along the way to help me on my journey back Home. I could not be more thankful for your beautiful spirits and the love and laughs we have shared. Thank you all. Until the next time, please dance in my absence.
Caroline
http://www.totallyfuzzy.net/ourtube/elton-john/goodbye-yellow-brick-road-video_caccdcf06.html
An Open Letter to My Sisters in Blue
I do not believe in coincidence. I believe in purpose and the poetry that is life.
A little over two years ago, ladies, I was introduced to you- as a patient. I was facing what I was certain was going to be the most life defining moment I would ever encounter. As a patient, I was checked in by Toni, had my vitals taken by Sheryl, was consulted by Dr. Scarborough and Swan, sat in Jenny's office as she referred me to plastics and signed consents and went over pre-op with Kathy. I did what hundreds of our patients do every single week. But I was not any patient. I was me. I was scared and you showed me compassion and understanding. You coordinated my care with respect and love not because of who I was, but because of who YOU were; because that IS who you are.
Before my incisions had had time to heal, my world imploded and much deeper wounds were created. Suddenly, I was a single mother of 4 children with the responsibility of having to support myself and them with no job experience other than years as a preschool teacher. I was broken emotionally, I was weak physically and I had not a thing to offer you, but you you embraced me anyway. Because that is who YOU are.
Swan, you immediately recognized me as the patient who fell asleep in the exam room with my husband as we waited for you and Chuck to come into us. You recounted how badly you had felt for making us wait, but it had been a busy afternoon with many positive cases. I couldn't help but be at awe that you recalled with such detail an appointment that had happened months before; details that I had completely forgotten, until you reminded me.
Rachel, you were given the very unenviable task of training me. For what seemed like months, (I'm sure it was only a week or so) you patiently walked me through step by step every little nuance of the office. You shared with me the office dynamics and gave me heads up on the unspoken rules. I marveled at the grace you showed me and the strength that emanated from you as a mommy who had dealt with the pain of a seriously ill child.
Toni and Blanca, you tag teamed me with tough love, and I needed it. "Stay in your box." I will forever have the image of that sticky note stuck to the side of my computer in my mind. Indeed, important advice when working in the medical community, just as relevant in the rest of my life. I have used the metaphor time and again since that day.
Allison and Za, you were the sounding boards for the matters of my heart as I wound through the divorce process, struggled with raising my babies and began to date. My street cred was amped by Za as she gave me vocabulary lessons (I still have not recovered) and was offered the "Cone of Safety" by Allison. The words "no judgement" were uttered perhaps more than any other...well, and SABOTAGE.
Kathy and Roberta, I have required unending mothering over the past two years and you both have filled that role. As a 38 year old woman, I still crave a mother's hug and unfortunately need a mother's reprimand from time to time. It was with you that I felt most able to let the tears flow on the days I could no longer be strong, and with you I was reinforced and encouraged. Thank you.
Suzi, Lisa, Brandy, Sheryl, Kacie, Haley and April Showers,
I love you all. I love the laughs, the swirls in the chairs, the singing and dancing and the multiple blind date attempts that had me considering going into hiding. I love that you would chase me with post it notes and try and offer me free medical advice, solicited or otherwise. I love that every one of you have deep, personal experience with my bionic boobs and you never tired of examining, talking about them or advising me on how to handle those suckers- or maybe you did. Thanks for not letting on. The three of us appreciate your support greatly.
And of course the Vaginas, to include the entire Gyn/Onc team, First and for most, thank you for letting me refer to you as the Vaginas. I know it's unprofessional. I'm well aware. I can not help it. You are my people. I came to the office as a 36 year old, post menopausal, Brca 2 + woman who was living each day watching my beloved aunt die of ovarian cancer. You were my life line. You answered my persistent questions and invited me into your fold. You allowed me to participate in the work you do to raise awareness for Gyno cancers and allowed me to feel like I was honoring my aunts in doing so. Through you, I became more educated and passionate. Tara, you sought me out specifically when you knew I was concerned about a patient. That meant the world to me. Tricia, knee deep in charges, you danced with me in the front office. Nixie, thank you for always being concerned and interested. Renee and Jen, You both are angels in my eyes. For me and for countless other women and their families you have demystified cancer. What you two have is not something that could ever be taught in nursing or med school. I felt it as your friend and coworker, but your patients feel it every second of the day. Many of the ladies you see are in the fight of their lives, but because of you, they are blessed beyond measure. You are their light.
Yes, you are my Yellow Brick Road friends, as Dottie says. You have been people I have met along the way to help me on my journey back Home. I could not be more thankful for your beautiful spirits and the love and laughs we have shared. Thank you all. Until the next time, please dance in my absence.
Caroline
http://www.totallyfuzzy.net/ourtube/elton-john/goodbye-yellow-brick-road-video_caccdcf06.html
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