I am 30 days away from startin nursing school. For the past 3 months since I found out about my admission into the program, I have felt veryexcited, yet anxious because I wanted to know everything about the program but I had to wait until orientation. In the mean time, I praticed doing some dosing modules online. I have an amazing tutor for nursing school and she helped me grasp the concepts quickly. I was truly worried I would never figure it out! Math is not my strong suit.

On Friday, I woke up early, curled my hair, put some make up on, grabbed my water, snacks and welcomed the sunrise as I drove south down the freeway to the school I will call home for the next 24 months. I arrived 15 minutes early. I do hope that this is something I can accomplish every time I go down, as tardiness is one of my biggst pet peeves. Others had already arrived and once we were ushered through the line I received my folder for the day, took my student photo for my badge, and munched on a bagel.

The entire day was wonderful. I could feel a lot of anticipation and stress flow away as I had questions answered and chatted with new friends. My excitement for this program has only grown. We learned about some rules and regs, how clinical placements take place, how to build relationships with the faculty and other students, and how to survive the next two years without failing out or losing our minds. I admit, I have been pretty nervous about doing well but I KNOW that I have what it takes to get through it. One day at a time. Plus, my husband has been an amazing rock. He knows that things will change and that sacrifices will be made. I could not do any of this without his love and support, or that of other friends and family.

My dreams of becoming a nurse midwife become more real every day. Every class, every credit, every cinical will bring me closer to that dream. Thanks for being her with me.


An Open Letter to Joy Behar

I was pissed when I heard about the comments made on The View regarding Kelley’s monologue as a nurse on Miss America. She hails from a town not far from me. She works with and knows several of the nurses I work with. While I have yet to meet her in person, this hit home, literally, harder than I expected. Being a nurse is so much more than a monologue. It is a lifestyle, a calling and for me, a passion. This letter to Joy is very well-said, respectful and just what the ladies at The View need to here.

According to Kateri

As many of you have seen, Miss Coloradodelivered a beautifully spoken monologue about nursing during last week’s Miss America pageant. Recently, on The View as the pageant was discussed, Miss Colorado’s scrubs were referred to as a costume, and Joy posedthe question of why she was wearing a “doctor’s stethoscope.” Below is my now calmed down reply to all of it. Additionally, Iwould like to personally andpublicly congratulate Kelley Johnson RN on her chosen talent, it is one that will reward you forever.

Dear Joy Behar,

A beautiful woman in a beauty pageant put on baggy clothes and humbly walked across the stage to talk proudly about her career, and her passion for caring for other human beings, and the only thing you could muster in response was an insult grounded in ignorance.

Rather than being offended or getting angry, I will instead, take a moment to teach.

I am…

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coffee date

If we were going on a coffee date I’d tell you what’s on my heart…

I’d tell you that I am not crazy about the class I’m taking right now. It’s on the book of Psalms. It’s a required class since I am attending a Christian University for nursing school. I’d tell you that I enjoy how close it has made me feel to God but that the class itself I’m over.

I’d tell you that I have a new nephew. I’d tell you that he is super adorable and has the same little elf ear point that Evelyn had at birth (and she’s since grown into). I’d tell you loving another newborn that is not my own and is not my patient is a totally new feeling of love I’ve never felt before.

I’d tell you that my mom is doing amazingly after finishing her radiation in mid July. I’d tell you that her hair is growing back super fast and that she looks beautiful.

I’d tell you that we took a famiy vacation to the mountains and it was, at the time, exactly what my soul needed. Fresh air, sunshine, and freedom really did this body good.

I’d tell you that being a mom has been hard this summer. My kids are growing and learning and becoming amazing humans and with all that growth and learning comes challenges. I’d tell you that they push all the buttons I didn’t even know I had. I’d tell you that I keep praying for constant patience and love. It’s getting better, but it’s been hard.

I’d tell you that emotionally, I’ve been struggling. Things have been hard lately and I can only hope that I’ll learn from it all. I only ever want to come out of hard times stronger and more resiliant with a better sense of who I am. It’s happening. Slowly.

I’d tell you that a sweet little boy, precious little man, has grown his angel wings far too soon. I’d tell you that my heart is breaking for his mama and daddy, two amazing friends we’ve known and loved for a long time. Saying goodbye to your child is something no parent should ever have to do. I’d tell you I find myself in constant prayer for them, for peace, love, comfort and healing. But my heart is still so sad.

I’d tell you all of this, over coffee and a box of kleenex because crying has become therapy. It’s been a long time since I have been feeling this emotional. At first, I want to fight it. I want to shove all these feelings into a deep hole so I don’t even have to think about it, but that ends up hurting more and does me do good. Welcoming the feelings, ALL the feelings, is healthy. It’s not easy. In fact, it’s really hard. And even more, sharing all this is hard. But I felt that I had to. I can only fake my feelings for so long before people can tell I’m not being myself. I hate when even I know I’m not being myself.

I’d tell you I get it. I’d tell you that I care about you, that your feelings are valid and I’d give you a hug.

The Politics of the Pelvic Exam: Practicing Applied Feminism

This is a great post about doing pelvic exams. I’m saving this for later and sharing the most important quote from the entire piece:

“A few months ago I was conducting a pelvic exam on a teenager, and it was her first exam. I absolutely love doing women’s first exams because studies show, unsurprisingly, that a woman’s first experience with a GYN health provider is likely to color her opinion of pelvics for the rest of her life, significantly impacting her follow-up and continued screening in the years to com.”

Sage Femme

Pelvic exams are really hard for a lot of people.

That statement should be self -evident, but I have had enough pelvics, and certainly conducted enough with other providers to know that not every midwife or physician truly understands this. Not just pays lip service to it, but truly understands how traumatizing and re-traumatizing the pelvic exam can be. For those of you with limited exposure to pelvics, or those of you who don’t have a vagina, I’ll provide you with the basics of what we do:

1) The external exam. Examine the external genitalia, make not of any sores, irritations or cysts. 

2) The internal exam, conducted with either a plastic or a metal speculum. This is how we look at the vaginal walls, look at discharge, and look at the cervix and take any samples we might need to take (i.e.: pap smear, wet prep, or STD testing…

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the month from hell

It’s no surprise that I have been MIA the last several weeks and usually I’d say that is because of school, which is true, but not the whole story. School has been crazy-busy. Less than two weeks and I’m done with this semester! Micro is going really well and AP is not so bad either. Overall, great class, great professors, just tons of work.

The rest of the story is a personal one. I stopped writing my personal blog almost a year ago and I really don’t miss it. This is a great space for me to write about what I want to my readers to see and sometimes it’s personal. Just over a month ago, my mom was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer. This news has rocked our family. She is young, healthy, fit and has the best attitude of anyone I know. We are very close and thankfully, live 5 minutes from each other. Maybe at a later time I will go into more detail of what the last month has been like but for now, I will leave it at “the worst month of my life-the month from hell”. My anxiety, which was already heightened with stress from work and school, reached a new level and I have had to take steps to get that back under control. I feel much better now. Two weeks ago tomorrow, my mama had a double mastectomy. Probably one of the scariest days ever, next to the early days that Logan spent in the NICU. Not knowing and waiting. We had a great support system here for all of us. Today, she is doing great. She is healing well, though still quite sore. This is not the end. It is just the beginning. There will be at least one more surgery for reconstruction and there will be treatment. Treatment for cancer. I never imagined I’d have to say that, especially about my mama. But it is what it is. So here I am, busting my ass to get through the rest of the semester, take care of my family, and support my mom and dad as they go through their own hell, cancer.