Benched

So the past few weeks I have been pondering my life... how I got where I am... and I know it kinda seems like a lot's going on but for some reason, I still felt benched. 

Perhaps it's because I started on a new unit with a whole bunch of people I'm meeting for the first time... many of whom forget that I work there permanently and keep asking if I'm a float or who I am.  I feel like I'm sitting on the sidelines watching other people play the game and sometimes I feel like I'm at the bottom of the bench.  The end of the bench? 

So I had resolved to... spend my time on the bench as productively as possible.  Sit and watch.  Learn.  Observe.  To try to keep up as much as possible so whenever the coach wants to put me in... I'll be warm and ready and waiting to take my place.  If I'm gonna be benched... or actually, in this case... to only feel like I'm being benched... I want to be the best benched person ever.  Benched with excellence. 

I'm learning a lot.  My new unit takes very different patients than the other units I've been on.  I feel like this is a whole new world of nursing and sometimes I get stuck in the mentality that I don't know what's going on and I forget that I do have some experience to fall back on.  I have to remember that I'm adjusting to a new patient population and adjusting to the way things work on day shift... and just follow my inklings and ask questions if there's anything I'm not sure about.  I always think it's better to ask a question 10 times than to make a mistake by not asking.  Thankfully, my new co-workers are super nice.  They are super willing to answer my questions and even if it's something I should have known, they just answer my question and don't get on my case about "you should have known this or that".  The secretary and I were just talking about that phenomenon today.  How in the amount of time it took someone to yell at you for "you should have already known how to do that", they could have taught you how to do it and saved you a whole lot of stress and helped you for next time too.  Anyway.  I'm glad I'm on this unit. 

Today was a good day at work.  My patients were sweet.  Their family members were also sweet and very helpful.  I got a chance to teach them things.  I really felt like we worked as a team to help the patient.  That's always nice.  Also, a few of the nurses took the time to explain things to me and to help walk me through what normally happens when we get a fresh open heart (or a patient who just came back from open heart surgery).  It's so complicated.  There's so much going on.  I think I'll have to watch/hear/listen many times before I truly "get it" but I'm glad to have the experience to observe again today.  After the patient had stabilized enough for me to ask questions, some of the nurses and I got to talking.  This one particular nurse was quite outspoken.  We talked about all kinds of things... nurse practitioners, health care, nurses, abortion, gay marriage, etc. etc.  Anyway... this person also mentioned that they were agnostic.  Multiple times throughout the day.  I'm not sure how it came up multiple times but it just did.  As a newbie, I do a lot of listening.  I was very aware of this fact. 

And then there was a moment where I had to make a split second decision.  The moment came right after this agnostic nurse asked me if I was married or dating.

On some units or among some co-workers... I don't elaborate.  When patients ask me this question, I usually give the VERY short answer which I know will lead to a dead end in the conversation... and that answer is "nope".  It's vague.  It's a conversation ender.

I remember standing there... at the door of the room... looking at this patient with a billion tubes coming out of her, surrounded by machines... a nurse facing me, doing one of the countless tasks that have to occur every hour in order to manage care of this patient... I had a choice... to say "nope" or to say what I know will open the door to many more questions... a much longer conversation... taking more time than I know this nurse has.  I made that split-second decision to say, "I'm widowed" and the events following this split-second decision were nothing short of amazing... to me anyway. 

I have to back up to another conversation I had recently... just to give a little bit of background as to why this was significant.  Building on my feelings prior to getting the Dr. Eugene Scholarship... I had wondered whether or not my time talking about widowdom was near an end.  It is definitely a part of me and it is a significant part... but I don't want it to define me or who I am in the future.  But just as having my scholarship essay read aloud for me to hear my own words tell me that being widowed is inextricably part of who I am... that it is not just my past but a part of me that molds and influences how I do my work as a nurse, as a student... as a friend... it makes me a better person... to embrace it as what it is... the most powerful testimony of God's grace and God's glory shown through my life. 

As I read through the stories of the kings of Israel and Judah... and think back on what God did in Egypt... in the wilderness... in the conquering of the promised land... I can't help but think that what He has already done is more than enough foundation to make having faith in Him a no brainer.  How many times have I read, "thus you shall know that I am your God and you are My people..." and all the amazing things God has done after that?  How many people have witnessed God's amazing work in their lives and also in the lives of the people around them... and still fail to believe?  Lots.  I think there's a big difference between saying, "Lord, please help my unbelief" and doubting that God is powerful enough to handle our problems, big or small, or that His way is better than our way 100% of the time.  I heard on the radio someone talking about the shortest distance between two points and how it's not a straight line... otherwise rivers would be straight lines... the shortest distance between two points, he said, is the path of least resistance.  Imagine trying to navigate through a forest and trying to go in a straight line... there are trees in the way... there may be rocks... there may be all kinds of road blocks which keep us from going in a straight line but we INSIST on going in a straight line.  Perhaps there is instead... a little squiggly path... perhaps around a bend, around the trees... it will take us in the direction we need to go, perhaps necessitating some "detours" but the road marked before us has little inklings that we're heading the right direction without ruining the forest.  Perhaps leading to a little spring along the way... maybe taking us on an adventure... to enjoy the journey as well as press on toward the destination.  It's not a perfect analogy... but when we choose God, we are choosing to follow the God who knows the forest inside and out, who has complete control over everything that happens there... who knows the path of our lives and plans for the best... who knows also that a detour here or there might just be better for the journey than trying to plow through in a straight line or even cut down the trees that fall in our way.  K.  I think I'm getting carried away with this one.  The point is... it never occurred to me to transfer to CVU six months ago, but the way circumstances played out... if one unit seemed to slam all the doors in my face and another unit promises to open them up again... I was almost led here... around the trees... and taking a path I don't know and was unsure about... but somehow trusting that it was meant to happen this way. 

Today was one of those days where I found a little nugget letting me know that I'm here for a reason... sent for a purpose.  Kinda like Paul.  OK I digress a little bit but I promise it has a point.  Paul... I can't remember exactly how it happened but somehow ended up on trial or maybe imprisoned and then on trial... in front of Romans... in front of maybe the senate or whatever convenes during Roman trials... and I think he probably could have gotten out of the whole thing by telling them he was a Roman citizen but he didn't.  He went ahead and got put on trial... and he got a chance to bring the gospel of Jesus Christ directly to people who probably wouldn't listen to a Hebrew otherwise.  He had a captive audience.  And one thing that someone said reminded me of something someone said to me today, "you almost persuade me to become a Christian" (from Acts 26). 

So going back to work today... during my split second decision... I felt like the coach was calling my name and asking if I wanted to step up and play.  And because I was ready... I said yes.  I don't know what it is about saying the words, "I'm widowed" that makes people stop what they're doing and listen to what I have to say.  A respiratory therapist AND a nurse both immediately stopped what they were doing and gave me matching looks of incredulity.  And I couldn't help but to elaborate. 

It's not the first time I've told the story.  In fact, some words I used... were exactly what I said when telling my story on The Upper Room interview.  I tried to be as brief as possible... as to not disturb people from their work of saving lives or whatnot... but for some reason when I told my story today... it was contagious.  It was contagious and unifying.  Nursing is largely independent work.  Everyone has their own respective tasks of things to do and we all kind of plot out our own day according to our own priorities in order to get them done.  That means that one person could be charting, one person could be drawing up meds, one person could be at the monitor looking at heart rhythms... everyone's usually doing something different.  Oh and that's not to mention that some nurses don't get along with others so they don't talk to each other or try to keep their distance.  Anyway... when I got to talking... one person heard a little bit and wanted me to share more.  And then another person heard a bit and pulled up a chair to listen.  I was well prepared with my "wedding photos" album on my phone.  I remember standing there with 3 nurses sitting/standing around me, the newbie, listening as though the words coming out of my mouth were captivating... and maybe it was.  Maybe I am a good story teller, despite the stutterings and forgetting words or terms or guessing at dates.  So we had story time, right there in the middle of the cardiac ICU at Anaheim Regional Medical Center. 

I like telling the story to nurses.  We can talk about the medical stuff.  They ask me questions about diagnosis and history... they guess that he had mets (or metastases) and they know what I'm talking about when I talk about respiratory failure, intubation... traching.  In a way, I get to tell Anderson's story in a different way when I tell it to nurses or people in the medical field.  I actually did not mention God in my brief medical synopsis version... but even in the midst of nurses having to leave and come back to story time... that agnostic nurse came back and made a bold statement that, "I'm agnostic but it's stories like yours that make me want to believe there is a God". I didn't even outright say anything... but God's work speaks for itself. 

It reminded me that my life and my testimony is not meant to be hidden... or put on a shelf high up like a high school yearbook.  It's meant to be... a light... placed on a hill... to cast light in the darkness of night... to brighten the paths of the valley... and to illuminate the way for others struggling to see their own feet.  I'm not quite sure what kind of impact this little bit of the Tifferson story had on my co-workers that particular day, but I do find that when I share honestly... other people also share about related stories in their lives... and also try to encourage me... and hugs.  I usually get lots of hugs. 

The amazing things God's done in my life... they are meant to be shared... and also to be remembered.  How can I doubt God and His goodness when I daily remind myself of His faithfulness and His grace to me and Anderson?  How can I ever complain about the "crazy" things that happen in my life when God has shown me time and time again that what Satan means for evil, God can turn into good? And it's not just the stuff God's done in the past... it's the stuff He continues to do in my everyday life which gives me even more stories to tell about His awesomeness. 

For example...miss grumpy nurse... the one who complains about everything... who carries the weight of the stress of the job on her shoulders and never wants to take it off... the abrasive one with the passive aggressive jokes... made it a point to encourage me and tell me that I'm beautiful and smart and that she's sure that one day I'll love again.  I think that God's work can pierce through the most callous hearts and bring out the sweetness and tenderness that often hides behind the protective stone walls that people put up.  That... is beautiful to me.  And perhaps I will have a chance to share again one day... to tell more stories... and encourage others... and bring shining light and hope into their lives.  Yes.  I was meant to be here.  And I'm also thankful for all the training and prepwork... for the moments I was benched, but ready at a moment's notice to seize an opportunity to share.  Who knows... I may not get a chance to share again... this might be the only day I get to work with these people... and I think that's kind of a good mentality to have.

If this were the only interaction I would ever have with a person... what would I want them to remember?  If I only had these 12 hours today... to take care of a patient... to work alongside someone... or even to meet someone new somewhere... what kind of an impact do I want to have on them?  I think I'd want to leave them with a sweet taste... wanting to hear more, know more... and that's also probably the way we need to be treating every person we come in contact with.  I am guilty of behaving in ways which probably leave bitter tastes in people's mouths... which leave them thankful that I'm away from them... but hopefully, with God's grace, I can grow to become the sweetest version of me...the me that is as much like Jesus as I can possibly be in this life. 

OK.  I think I probably should try to get some sleep. It's finals week after all.

Thank you for taking the time to read about my day at work. 

<3,
Tiff

P.S. I like day shift.  I do also like night shift for various reasons... but I really enjoy being at the hospital during the day.  There are so many more people to talk to and infinitely more people to smile at.  And the MDs are so much nicer during the day.  I think I could go either way.  Plus, I'm pretty sure I have my night shift experience so that I can represent night shifters at committee meetings and speak up for their unique needs as well.  All part of my training to play the best game I can. 

P.P.S.  I'm very sensitive to caffeine.  I think I'm still wired from the small cup of coffee I drank 15 hours ago.  My very nice co-workers bought me a cup of hazelnut vanilla coffee and I couldn't say no.  I've been awake for 19 hours.  I'm still not tired.  But that meant I had enough energy to blog my day for you.  All good. 

waiting

Hello blog.  It's been a while.  I skipped blogging during the entire months of April and May mostly because I was so exhausted that I chose to sleep instead.  When I wasn't sleeping, I was probably going to work.  When I wasn't working, I was probably doing homework.  When I did have time, my brain function was so low'n'slow that I had no idea what I'd write to begin with.  I am about to make more life changes so I thought that maybe I should just post for the sake of getting my feelings out and preparing for what's ahead. 

I think I've been pretty tired for the past few years.  I've only gotten more tired as I started school.  Around February of this year, I think I got to a point where I wasn't sure if I could handle the exhaustion anymore.  One particular day, I slept for 20 hours.  I might have gotten up to go to the bathroom twice but was so exhausted that I went back to bed.  I slept for almost an entire day.  It was then that I realized that I should probably try to make some changes before my body revolts on me. 

I analyzed the situation and decided that I was not about to give up school at this point (even though it was REALLY tempting...) and I wasn't going to give up seeing my friends... so I decided to try to make some changes at work.  I currently work full time nights in our medical/surgical ICU.  I approached my director multiple times but no viable options surfaced.  It appeared that I was stuck for the moment. 

Many thoughts entered my mind.  Not all of them positive... but at the end of the day, I thought that maybe...since all these doors were being closed... that it wasn't time to move.  Maybe it was time to stay put and suck it up.  Do the best with what I've got... and honestly, what I've got isn't bad at all. 

It never occurred to me to look to another unit, but as chance would have it... I went to a free dinner at Mastro's and two other nurses from my hospital also went.  These two nurses worked in the cardiovascular ICU unit, which is called CVU at my hospital.  They encouraged me to turn around and take a look at the doors in the other direction.  Long story short, the director of CVU already knew who I was because I'd done some presentations in front of the management a few months back and when I called her, she told me she thought to herself, "wow, she must be reading my mind...because I have openings and she wants to transfer."  As many doors were closing in ICU... opportunities started to open in CVU.  It was almost as if... the winds were routing me in this direction.  Such is the story of my life. 

At the beginning of April, I accepted a position for day shift on CVU.  These past two months have been spent waiting.  It took a while for me to be released from my current unit.  I only received my transfer date a couple weeks ago.  Waiting, waiting, waiting.  Hear Inigo Montoya say, "I hate wait." 

During this time of waiting... I did have a chance to think.  Just a little bit.  I thought about King David... anointed to be King of Israel as a youth... and then waiting... running from King Saul... waiting... ruling in Judah... and then finally making it to King of Israel.  He had been promised the throne this entire time... but I'm pretty sure as he was running, being hunted by King Saul's men... getting kicked out of one country... being a nomad with his army band of misfits... he must have wondered and cried out... why?  And then bingo, a psalm was written.  And then I heard on the radio... about Jacob and Joseph... not wanting to leave their bones in Egypt... and how it was a result of their faith...that Egypt was not the final destination... the Promised Land was.  So I tried to keep my eyes focused on the promise and not the current situation.  What's the point of being disgruntled about something so temporary?  It's like grumbling about the loaner when your car's in the shop... this isn't your car... it's just a placeholder.  And then I thought about how all of life is like that.  Life here on earth... it's not the end.  This isn't all there is.  This is not my eternal resting place or my home forever... just for maybe another 50 odd years.  Part of it is waiting... but another part is living... if I'm going to wait... I'm going to wait with excellence.  If between me and Anderson... if I'm the one that got a chance to live... I want to live with excellence as well. 

I also had a thought... why so many changes?  Am I restless?  Am I discontent?  Do I make changes for the sake of torturing myself?  I don't know.  I don't consider myself a masochist.  And a part of me does fear the unknown.  A part of me does push myself to the limit to see how far I can go.  And I guess some part of me decided that switching back and forth between staying up all night and staying up all day was something I wanted to change... so I did.  I did 2.5 years on night shift so I can definitely say that I can do it.  But the combination between night shift, school, dissertation stuff... I think it's a little too much for me right now so I'm scaling back.  I don't see anything wrong with that. 

And then I wondered... am I making changes because winds blow me in any particular direction?  When is it time to drop the anchor and when is it time to pull up the sail?  Are my changes reactionary or proactive?  Is this folly or wisdom?  Are these changes just a part of growth and learning? Why does it seem like so many people delay making changes and why does it seem like I can't wait for them to happen?  Maybe it's hope.  Hope that things could be better than they are.  I think that's what I'm hoping.  Maybe it's that hope that pushes me... the hope that's stronger than the fear that things could get worse.  Then I guess that makes me an optimist. 

I read this today in an ad:

Most people go to work.  Nurses go to care.

During my time of waiting... I think that work had begun to seem like... work.  I'd have my good days and my bad days but overall... I think I was kinda sad or depressed.  It was like... I had become a foggy version of myself.  I could still recognize myself but nothing felt that happy... nothing felt that sad... it was just... blah-ness.  Everyday blah-ness.  And I didn't want to live like that either.  I was listening to the radio and there was a song playing... but there was some static.  I could still hear the song because I'd recognized it and I'd heard it before... but there was static over it... obscuring the song enough so that if someone hadn't heard it before, they might not remember it again.  I don't want to be that kind of person or live that kind of life.  I don't want people to meet me or see me and not remember the essence of me.  I want it to be strong and obvious... plain and simple... bold and colorful, not washed out.  I want to be the best version of myself and the best version of myself is the one that's directly connected to my Source of life.  I had to move myself to get out of the way of the obstacles that were messing with my connection.  Heard this song on the radio too. 

I don't wanna go through the motions
I don't wanna go one more day
without Your all consuming passion inside of me
I don't wanna spend my whole life asking,
"What if I had given everything,
instead of going through the motions?"

No regrets, not this time
I'm gonna let my heart defeat my mind
Let Your love make me whole
I think I'm finally feeling something
'Cause just okay is not enough
Help me fight through the nothingness of this life

The two things that stood out to me were the "all consuming passion inside of me" and to a lesser extent, "just okay is not enough".  I want all consuming passion inside of me.  I remember something that I said about Anderson's legacy in the Upper Room interview... that everything I do nowadays is a result of the overflow of love in my heart.  I wrote essays about it for school.  It helps me see my patients and their families as people instead of just a job.  I think I needed this time of waiting to help remind me of that before I got to a place where I couldn't even recognize myself anymore... with no joy in anything... with fake smiles that hid the nothingness and emptiness I felt inside.  Sometimes I stop and ask myself where my joy is... where my bubblies went.  I know something's wrong when I have no bubblies. 

And then maybe the past week... I started "waking up" little by little.  I talked to a couple people I hadn't talked to in a while.  They helped remind me of things.  It helped remind me of who I am.  I read some of my old blog posts.  I re-read my Inheritance Article. I looked at old pictures.  And then... I got this award.

And I cried. 

I cried as the presenter was reading my scholarship essay out loud.  Hearing him use my own words to remind me why I became a nurse and why I wanted to pursue additional education to further my career... it hit me again... about who I am and what I do.  Everything about me is inextricably a part of who I am... the nurse... the widow... the woman... and it's OK to make changes to help me be the best I can be.  And I always tell myself... I know it's a good day when I've cried.  It means that my heart has moved... I've purged.  Good signs.  Reminding me who I am. 

After I cried, I had to go to work.  It was my last night shift.  I tried my best to enjoy it.  A couple people told me some reasons why they don't want day shift... that they couldn't stand the busy-ness... all the people... and I just smiled.  I like the interaction.  I like the people.  I like talking to doctors.  I stayed after work to talk to some day shifters.  It also reminded me about who I was and what I love.  And then I watched a GI doc do an EGD and place a PEG at the bedside.  It was pretty crazy amazing.  And then I thought about how many more cool things I'll get to see on day shift and also on a new unit.  So... I'm hopeful. All this waiting had a purpose and now that it's done... I can look back on all the good things that came from the waiting and leave behind the frustration and anger at why it had to happen this way in the first place. 

And maybe for when I forget... I should write this down so I can remind myself later...

There's always a reason for everything He allows to happen.  It's looking for those reasons and choosing to believe the best in God that makes the difference between gratitude and bitterness.  Sometimes people make it harder to see but... I know that (insert name here) means well even if it doesn't come across that way or if I don't understand the reasons at the time.  

K.  I think I'm done writing down my scattered thoughts.  Hope they made sense.  Until next time...
<3,
Tiff