From Island-Hopping to Baby-Catching

Hello Hello! It’s been all together too long! It is autumn in Richmond, Virginia, an I am grand. J

The academic summer ended with a screeching halt, and a whole month of vacation! I had the pleasure of seeing some of you, but missed many dear folks. After successfully navigating my withdrawal from the medical world (twas hard…), I booked it up to Greenfield, Massachusetts to be with Zoë and associates, and assumed a strange alter ego, one known to have time to meditate, fly fish, cook, and go for…get this…walks! Zoë and I planned and (dare I say) rocked our trip to Maine, which went something like this: AmazingBlueberryAddledRoadTripThroughRelativelyTouronFreeLovelyWith

JustEnoughPieAndBeautifulWeather

AsWeKayakedOutToOurOwnIslandsAndEnjoyedTheFogAndSunHerbsAndEagles.

Big thanks to Beth and Daryl who hooked us up with amazing kayak gear, to the CS friends who provided amazing puke-worthy-cute cabin, and all Mainers who tolerated our driving. It was a sad return to Richmond, but lately punctuated by many welcome visits. <3

Though I promised I would write when my head was again above water, I am, hilariously posting this when I am yet again submerged. This semester is known as the toughest, with 17 credits, 2 clinicals, 3 didactic lectures, and all together too many assignments. My excuses for not having a life include the classes Nursing of Children, Nursing of Women, Pathophysiology and Pharmacology, Principles of Research, Pediatric rotation (in acute care peds), and OB/GYN rotation. In nursing school we celebrate fascinating, engrossing clinical experience with dreadfully dry and boring papers.

As the stress (and excuses to bitch) mount, healthcare and it’s aspiring students are beginning to raise our ugly heads. Perhaps it is our increased clinical hours, but this semester has portrayed the darker side of hospitalist care: Jaded and negligent nurses, inconsiderate or arrogant doctors, frustrated families, burnt-out clinical faculty, and lots of people who just don’t listen. Add a culture of catty gossip, a pinch of insecurity, and deadlines, and you have a recipe for self-perpetuating unhappiness. The good news is that this provides awesome opportunities for practice, not just for personal survival, but also for patient well-being. It takes only one person in the OR (out of 9) to provide presence and a few minutes of real listening in the middle of an emergency C-section, in which everyone else is arguably more anxious than the patient!

MCV hosted a recent study designed to monitor whether patient communication in palliative care (death or dying) improved with mindfulness practice. Did it? …duh. We’re not hopeless here, things are improving. In fact, during the study, I met a wonderful Buddhist Chaplain (I know…MCV has one!), who provided incredible insight and support for staying centered and inspired when your entire workplace isn’t. “You gotta’ outlast the bastards,” he said bluntly. Prioritizing practice has been crucial, and it’s impact is indispensable.

Clinically, it has been an amazing semester so far. OB is something that ALL MEN need to take. Period. (Geek Alert) Birthing is the most alien, incredible thing I have ever witnessed. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen it televised or heard it explained; being there is mind-blowing. At St. Mary’s off site clinical, we are exposed to tons of deliveries, and invited into the OR often for C-sections and procedures. Last Saturday, I watched 2 twins delivered C-section by a wonderful OB/GYN, who taught through the entire procedure.

I am most surprised by my time in pediatrics. I was wary of the impact seeing so many ill children would have on me, but it is their resilience and genuineness that is so striking. I am finding myself serendipitously drawn to the field, and not out of any arrogance, but relatively natural at it. I will say though, that the cases themselves are not inspiring. Sorry to be crass, but unfortunately, the reasons for admission on our floor often leave you considering the cause of illness to be utterly F*$@ed up. It has done several things for me: 1) made me value Social Services even more and wonder why they don’t have a hotline, 2) provided a whole new set of potential dangers to children, including football cleats and icecicles, 3) exponentially increased my admiration of (most) parents. So for peds, I offer a shout-out to the late Dr. Woodard, kiddo extraordinaire.

Speaking of both shout-outs and Woodards, this last month brought a sad opportunity to remember the ephemeral nature of our world. Jane Cahalane Woodard, better known as Namie, passed away after an unfortunate CVA. My schedule and the combined will of airlines prevented me from returning home to her memorial.

Namie was my last remaining grandmother, to whom I was very close. I think my dad got his affinity for nostalgic tradition and regularity from his mother. My memories of her are marked by these annual opportunities for interaction. She loved when the summer cooled off, and she could begin preparing, for Thanksgiving, Halloween, and that mack-daddy of nostalgia, Christmas. She had a sweater, costume, recipe, and tradition for each. Any Woodard family member will attest to amount of lard and nutmeg she loaded in her secret donuts, and delivered in oversize freezer bags. I never spent more anticipatory time in front of a microwave as when I was waiting for those lob-sided pastries. On Christmas eve, she and I would load up into my station wagon and drive around Old Town, watching the lit Farolitos and tourists. This was our tradition.

Yet it was her stories that made her a Namie. To my friends who have heard my stories repeated over and over (me forgetting to whom I told them), I argue that it is genetic. At least I heard them enough to remember them, most often at her kitchen table. Buying the Ranch, Kid falling out of the car on the 1 over the Big Sur cliffs, Japanese soldiers filming in Hawaii (and her thinking it was WWII all over again), Bill and Doc’s med school scuffle, etc. She meticulously documented our Irish heritage, which she handwrote out for me on yellow-pad paper. Namie passed on to me, with the lovingly hoarse voice and laugh of a 60-year-smoker, my paternal lineage of storytelling. We all miss her dearly, but it is only suiting that it is as Christmas-time that we grandchildren will gather to remember her.

I’m off to Greenfield to celebrate with wonderful loving folks, and hope to write soon. No really, I want to! Here is wishing all of you a quiet moment by a tree, enjoying the fire of autumn.

Paz,

B

Ben’ll be an RN in Two-Thousand Ten: Love, Clinicals, and Tubes in Funny Places.

Hi All! Such a long time since the last post, but I can assure you I haven’t been squandering the time.

The program began with a jackrabbit start and has increased it “acceleration” each week, but I love it. The learning curve is astounding; acclimating to a new group of amazing students (ALL ages), school policies, the ins-and-outs of the MEGALOhospital, and trying to meeting the basic biological needs conducive to learning critical skills.

In short, I am amazed at the nursing profession, and convinced that karmically, this is my path. Any school that spends the same amount of time teaching it’s students compassionate communication and holistic care as it does technical skills has my vote. The week was filled with listening exercises, intake skills, empathy in clinical practice, as well as IV’s and pumps,  venipuncture, foley catheters, and all the other fun stuff that you wish nurses didn’t have to do to you. The professors are top notch (and quirky!), the facilities are some the best in the country, and our opportunities for learning in 15 months surpassing those of most 4 year nursing schools. But it is certainly demanding.

School of Nursing

The Hospital (MCV, or VCU Medical Center), is freaking ginormous, with close to 800 beds, more than 80,000 emergency admits annually, and about 31,000 inpatient discharges a year. My clinical is on the Women’s Surgical floor, with perhaps the most maternal, loving, and no bullshit veteran RN as my clinical instructor. Our time spent on the floor is time as an RN, under the umbrella of the Hospital, much like medical internships. Our advantage is that we get to work the hospital in nursing capacities before we graduate, so we hit the ground running.

MCV Hospital, Critical Care Center

Yet even in the most advanced facilities, in one of the best teaching hospitals on the east coast, it is evident that system is broken. As a budding liberation theologist, and health-care activist, my gears are loudly turning, tuning to a system that is so counter-intuitive to the care I aspire to provide. But it is grist for the mill; in becoming a critical care RN, I hope to use an in-depth knowledge of emergent care to treat it’s opposite: health promotion and preventative care as a rural Family Nurse Practitioner.

The activism is leaking out into the school…in running for class director I hope to restart grand rounds for nurses, with diverse faculty and guest speaker, hopefully attracting leaders in compassionate, integrated care. We shall see…

But it’s not work, fortunately. Richmond in summer is stunning, fun, and well…hot. I have been tuning my tracker mind to the woods here, slowly learning and meeting the new plant friends, and taking sufficient time for silence.

The highlight of the last month, however, was the celebrated visit of the Zoe. In sparing you all my typical mush onslaught, I will simply say that we shared a week of the most surprisingly kind, delightful, loving, and silly time ever. <3

Missing the Boulder crunch, the New Mexico weather, the Z, the friends, and the company, but loving it. WIshing you all the very best of my best, talk to you soon, and post when my head is again above the water.

The Nest

Seeing as it has been the most difficult housing to obtain EVER, this one has officially earned the name, Nest. 

Some of you know my uncanny love of nesting. Though most of the definitions involve mud, twigs, and twine, I like this one best: 2. To create and settle into a warm and secure refuge.” To warm the refuge even more, I christened the Nest with the ceremonial baking of Don Bread, which turned out quite well.

Anywho, I thought I would post some pics, including the requested pics of my bathtub (?!). 

Finished the BLS Healthcare provider training today: CPR, defibrillation and codes.

Hmmm…first thing they teach you in naturopathy: The body is a living miracle of nature that heals itself.

The first they teach you in allopathy: How to bring someone back from almost dying.

Hope all is well,

B

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Heart New England…

With only 5 hours to unpack my things and start to nest in my new place, I was barrelling down (up?) the 95 towards Massachusetts delighting in the company of my new-found friends, Meredith and Jesse. Newlywed, Jesse and Meredith are the type of out-of-the-closet dorkfest nerd-nuggets I wish to spend more of my time with. Within 20 minutes of driving, we had already identified that we were birds of a feather (regardless of their fascination with ducks, and mine of chickens…), and three hours into the trip had a road-trip team name, and suiting gesture to go with “Team Zoom.”

 

The Bumbleducks, Jesse & Meredith

 

 

I can safely say, without a doubt in my mind, that the Bumbleducks (Meredith and Jesse) are the best road-trip team ever. so there.

We arrived safely in Greenfield at midnight, greeted by an elated and sleepy Zoe (of whom I was very happy to see).

The days have been filled with garden tours, meeting elusive and long-awaited botanicals, delighting in roadside botany, debauchery potlucks with more-than-tolerable new friends (friends by osmosis are the BEST!), AMAZING old-time and bluegrass jams, singing, and my favorite, Zoe.

Z & B

I am sure it is easy to fall in love with New England when it is spring, and one is introduced only to the kindest, more fun people who live there, but I would rather not think about winter, and commuting, and grumps, and instead revel in the fiesta (a word not too common to these parts). Incredible medicines I have studied for years are introducing themselves (with a little help) in full un-abashed regalia, friends offer music whenever, snuggles are warm, long, and late, the local food dee-lish, and the cozy rain-days are the best in their class. 

Zoe and I met up with the gaggle of new friends on Sunday morning in Montague, for the much-anticipated May Day celebration. It was complete with Morris Dancing, the May pole, adorable dorklet’s raised with the tradition and dancing as though it were an annual chore, and my favorite, the fool, played by the one-and-only Big Billy Bart Bayles.

 
 

 

We finished off that celebration with a good introduction and following roll in the biggest Bloodroot patch I have ever seen (Sanguinaria canadensis, super endangered, but amazing medicine).

 

porching...and singing

 

 

Today, I toured University of Massachusetts Amherst campus, investigating the graduate nursing programs, and getting a window into the wonderful work that Ms. Gardner lives and loves. Sad to think that Wednesday will bring my departure (SO SOON!)  but we are already mapping out the various routes between Greenfield and Richmond, and hoping for synchronized long weekends and vacations. hooray!

morris dancing

 

 

Tomorrow brings the UMASS Herbfest, sponsored by the future Dr. Gardner’s department and a group of Guest Herbal Presentation judges…ahem. I am looking forward to it.

I’ll take a train to Jersey to visit with the sister, Joss, and her wonderful family for 3 days, before returning to Richmond to finish my nesting, and begin classes, including hospital orientations, CPR classes (bleh…fo real?), and NURSING SCHOOL! I am sure that the advice provided to me by VCU MCV female grads will assist me in surviving as one of the ONLY dudes in our class. sigh… we shall see!

 

Hooray! A House!

I am pleased to announce that after arduous searching, I have found a place. It has come to be known as the Colorful Place, a 2 bedroom upstairs in an old house, as adorned with diverse colors as Becca and Perry’s. There is a Coral room, an Electric yellow Room, an Indigo room, full kitchen, bath (clawfoot tub, baby!), and porch, settle in a quiet neighborhood right outside of downtown. 

I’m pushing the wire as far as move in time. The flakey landlord keeps pushing back the move-in date…which is now the day I will be leaving. great. But, I am grateful for a place after all the hullaballoo. Mostly, I just need to unload the girthy load Sasha little-Subaru-that-could is bearing…she seems like she might break under the weight. I’ll post pictures as soon as it’s nested!

One of the blessings of all this house-searching has been that I now THOROUGHLY know Richmond. In looking, I tracked down a great local foods market, Elwood Thompson. After reading Omnivore’s Dilemma, and Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, it is a treat to live in a state that produces so much…produce! Hopefully, I can properly food-out healthily as I crunch through the gauntlet of nursing school. 

As a thank you, I cooked a dinner for Becca and Perry last night of predominantly local food. , and we finished off with an amazing documentary about Annie Leibovitz…ya’ll gotta see it. 

Anyway, hasta la proxima vez!

Housing…frick.

Waking on Friday morning I was thrilled to move into the place I had reserved…with a big fat deposit. Long story short, the place was atrocious, looked nothing like the pics they sent me, and smelled like a nursing home that allowed smoking. wow. The next places they showed me? One had human urine in the foller, and the last apartments tenant was finishing a line  while her daughter screamed as we entered to the living room. again…wow.  The company refused to return the deposit, and per the guidance of a certain attorney , I stopped the check before they could get it. 

So I went back to the drawing board. I have lived on craigslist for the last 4 days. Saturday, I looked at 8 places in one day, and 6 the next day, and have come to the conclusion that I should not live in the Fan, aka student ghetto. It tough. Amidst this stress, Becca and Perry have been gracious hosts, and more couchsurfers have arrived; some hilarious Brits who make excellent company. 

I forget exactly where Maslow placed “shelter” on his heirarchy of needs, but in meeting this requirement I have unfortunately not had a lot of time to check out Richmond’s cool spots. The original plan was to arrive, move in, and chill for at least three days before heading up to Massachusetts to see Zoe and New Jersey to see my sister Joss. Oh well, I have two days when I return…Just gotta find a house before then. sigh…

The Looooooooooong drive

Finally!

Holy Lord…If you’re going to drive through the center strip of Americana, I recommend doing it with a friend. Yes, a cross-country-road-trip virgin I was, but no more. I feel like I deserve a certificate until I remember all of my friends that have done it 10 times.

 

 

part of my view

 

 

It took three days, averaging 11 hours of driving a day, 15 hours of books on tape, and uncountable mix CDs from friends (you all saved me from madness). The trip started in Boulder, heading out on the 80 through Nebraska, landing at sunset in Henderson, NE, home of my lovely step sister, her husband Mark, and their son Carlon. I was greeted by a lovely meal, a tour of their inspiring farm, and a cozy bed.

 

 

The Farm in Henderson

 

 

 

 

 

Day 2 was started early, cutting across the southwest corner of Iowa in Missouri, through Kansas City and across to Louisville. Ha! 4 states in one day. I rock.

Day 3 brought me over the coal-country of Kentucky and West Virginia, right into Richmond. Wow.

 

Sunrise in the plains

 

 

 

I have been staying with a phenomenal couple I met through the networking site Couchsurfing.com. Couchsurfing is an international online community committed to provided couches, futons, floors and guest-bedrooms to travellers interested in meeting interesting people, sharing, and networking. 

I arrived to Becca’s and Perry’s home as the sun started to set on the balmy Richmond. Becca is an RN, and Perry  Pharmacist. And what a colorful home! Yellow, green, purple. They have been nothing but kind, hospitable, and insightful, showing me some of the ropes of Richmond and giving me the skinny on the place. We shall see!

 

yellow

The Best Despedida Ever…

I just wanted to thank all of you for the best going-away party one could ask for. The company was amazing and warmer than I could have imagined, the music delightful, the food dee-lish, and the debauchery was as it should be…memorable. Hope you enjoy the pics.

B

playin da tunes..

 

Mr. Chekovsky and Myself

different states

gamblin early...