too long

THERE IS SO MUCH!!

It has been way too long since I have written. I feel like I have been through at least two lifetimes in the past few months. My new job is pushing me to grow in ways I didn’t realize I needed to grow. It is interesting, as I have been adjusting to my new unit and the culture there, I have been turning inward. I have been reluctant to share my inner journey with you, which had become such a big part of who I was and what I needed to do to stay healthy before my transition to the CVOR.

After my therapy yesterday with my treasured psychologist it became very clear to me that I need to reach inside and determine what I need to do to stay healthy and then do those things. I need to fiercely guard the time I need to do those things. I am saying that as if it is some incredible realization when really it is a well-known fact, the problem is simply that if I spend too much time away from what I need to do to keep myself healthy my grief comes out sideways.

This is what I have been doing too much lately and not paying attention to myself because of: healing my relationship with Grant. There, I said it. Well, not to mention Covid-19 (learning how to live the new normal with the rest of the planet). Grant always pushes me to be so quiet about what we have going on with each other, and I get it, he enjoys privacy, but I am not a quiet person when it comes to my life. I like for things to be out in the open. Transparent.

I lived a long time in the dark during my youth. I really had two lives then: the life on the outside that looked mostly okay to everyone looking in on us (the mask) and the one at home that was full of anger, alcohol, and marijuana with an abusive husband who had me convinced if I tried to get help for my addiction he would lose his job. Back then I was just trying to keep it together enough to get through school and maintain a job. I have started a writing exercise that my psychologist recommended might help me integrate those traumatic memories. It takes so much emotional energy to do it I can only face it in small bits.

Right now Grant and I have reached a point where we want to live together again but there are some major issues that need to be figured out. The first is that I get virtually zero alone time when we spend a lot of time together. This is because Phoenix prefers my care to Grant’s care when the two of us are together. I have been encouraging Grant to try being more assertive and maybe that will help if I also stop stepping up right away. This kind of change takes time when you are working on this sort of reintegration. Another issue is that we do need couples counseling. And, of course, we seem to be attracted to completely different types of therapists. Of course. Another big issue is our motivation: are we doing this because we are in love with each other or are we doing it for Phoenix?

Another big issue that Grant and I have is our reluctance to share our journey with our friends and family.

I can only speak for myself here, but I feel like we have been through so much and reached such a very low point together that our friends and family were very happy and relieved to see us separate when we did. I mean we went through the whole deal for a proper separation with lawyers and parenting plans and all of it.

Since I started working in the CVOR I have changed in ways I didn’t predict. I have been through some major ups and downs during my transition to my new unit and I finally have started to feel like I am finding my place. This is great because for a few days there I thought I had made a big mistake! One of the things that has come out of my experience caring for this patient population is a renewed and deepened Christian faith.

This is an issue for Grant because he does not vibe with Christianity. He also tells me that he doesn’t think I will maintain my Christian faith for long. I have tried explaining that this has been a lifelong dance and I have finally reached a point where I am comfortable in it and so I am feeling the strength to own it and ground myself in it like I never have before. This will be a sort of living amends for me to Jesus. And time will tell. I will say that a very beautiful realization and discovery has come from my renewed faith: chaplaincy. Becoming a healthcare chaplain as my long-term career goal makes sense and every time I think about it I feel deep peace.

All of this and the churning of difficult times of the year for my grieving soul: Mother’s Day, Pierce’s birthday, Father’s Day, Vivian’s birthday, Phoenix’s birthday, and on Friday, Nick’s birthday.

Here is the good news: Grant and I settled on him not moving in for at least six more months and I am refocusing on my alone time. I think it is best for us to honor our parenting plan and spend time alone together on dates. Certainly, plan time to spend together with Phoenix and my Lane kids as a family, too, but mostly focus on alone time getting to know each other more intimately. No more spending time together like we are living together. There are too many unhealed hurts and I need to spend time alone doing things like writing updates to my blog.

No more hiding.

 

Long time coming

In December I finished my BSN. What a relief. I showed up to the  Avila University Administration Building to pick up my diploma the day campus re-opened after Xmess break and when the nice lady behind the counter handed it to me and asked me to check the spelling of my name to make sure it was correct the tears started flowing. Joy, sadness, relief, pride. It was all in those tears. And the missing. Missing Oscar, missing Nick. I can hear Nick telling me how proud he is of me. I can feel Oscar’s arms around me squeezing me tight in hugs only he could give. Thinking of that moment brings the tears to my eyes and goosebumps to my flesh even now.

My life seems to have been moving a million miles an hour for the past several years. Really since I got clean eight years ago. Change is always constant. Not just subtle changes like needing to change the brand of your coffee because the one that you like has gotten too pricey or your usual store has stopped carrying it. My changes have been life or death, literally. Navigating big change is hard. Nothing easy about it. I have found that the way to stay (mostly) productive is to focus on the small bits that make up the everyday. Breathing. Breathing is a big deal for me. Meditation daily is part of my routine, but it hasn’t always been. At first, it was simply remembering to take deep cleansing breaths whenever the uncomfortable vibrations of emotional pain would start creeping in. Then drinking enough water. For real. Water is a big deal. After that comes nourishing foods. All with a focus on mindfulness. Staying square in the middle of the moment you are in.

In the last semester of my BSN, I had a realization. The truth of my realization is that I am a nurse whose calling is surgery. This has been a difficult truth for me to embrace since Oscar’s death.

I studied mental health- depression, and suicidality- for all of my individual projects while completing my BSN. How confusing to study mental health so intensely if your calling is surgery. I thought for a while that I should try to change my specialty area and I did for about three months beginning in the late summer of 2018. I worked in primary care for those three months and I learned very quickly that it wasn’t for me. Nick died in September of that year and I couldn’t try to make the transition to primary care work any longer. Thankfully, I was welcomed back to the OR at Menorah I had been working in since I left KU in 2016. It was really good to go back to surgery after trying something different. This was a big clue to me that my calling is truly surgery.

Fast forward to last summer, 2019. It became glaringly clear to me that Menorah was no longer a good fit for me. Not because I was grating with personalities or anything like that. Menorah OR has been a wonderful family for me. I love all of the staff there dearly and it took me over six months to make the final decision to leave for another OR. I was not aligning with the foundational ethics of HCA. Over and over again I would see the same problems happening and I was powerless to do anything about it. I had ended up back in a board running position and was denied the opportunity to advance to management, so I was in this strange and very uncomfortable position of seeing exactly what needed to change to make our department more efficient and safer for staff and patients with no power to make change happen.

I applied for other OR staff nurse positions after I was denied the promotion to OR Manager at Menorah- and I turned down two very strong offers from organizations with very positive reputations. I wasn’t sure if my motivation to leave Menorah was coming from a place that was purely emotionally reactionary. What if this just meant that I really did need to change my specialty area? That was the lingering question. I felt like I wanted to try a little longer at Menorah (and finish my BSN). Ensure that I was truly doing everything I could to continue my career at Menorah. There were several conversations with my director about burning out in my board running position. That it was too stressful to make an impossible schedule run smoothly every day. What we needed to change to make our department more efficient. My concerns fell on deaf ears. I tried at Menorah. I really did.

I explored the question of whether I was really meant for surgery because of all of the heart and soul that I gave to Menorah with no reciprocation. I decided to apply for any and every job that sounded interesting to me that wasn’t in surgery. Looking back I feel like I was testing God. My job hunt included many different community health type positions from school nurse to county emergency coordinator to public health. I applied at UMKC, Cerner, Johnson County, Shawnee Mission School District, even Tyson Foods! ZERO interest from these employers. My resume went nowhere.

Swirling in the back of my mind, the entire time since I had turned the offer down in September, I kept thinking of one OR staff nurse position in particular: CVOR at Saint Luke’s Hospital. When I had interviewed there in late summer last year I was so impressed. I asked the manager more questions than she asked me. All of her answers were spot on. I shadowed there and was completely enthralled. The way the nurses practiced, the care I saw given, it was all world-class. Truly world-class. And the cases themselves! I had always had a little piece of me that wanted to learn CVOR, but I felt like I wasn’t good enough.

I had first been exposed to CVOR at KU. One of our robot rooms for main was in the CVOR and I would peek in the windows of those heart cases and I remember saying to my work wife at the time how much I wish I could just be a fly on the wall in those rooms. What if I was meant to grow as an OR nurse in a way that I never thought I would have the opportunity to? What if I could grow my OR nursing practice to include this pinnacle of OR nursing knowledge- open hearts? Those were the questions that began to make themselves regulars as I would contemplate my next career move.

The day after I finished my BSN course work in December 2019 I looked to see if the position at Saint Luke’s CVOR was still open. It was! I immediately reached out to the manager and to the HR recruiter I had worked with previously. I went through another round of interviews. I felt a sense of home during those interviews. I was extended a second offer that I accepted.

I have been in my new position learning the rooms as a CVOR staff nurse for about a month now. I’m not going to lie, it was pretty rough at first. The cases are the highest acuity and that is challenging to me because of my own personal trauma, but I feel confident that I am able to process these new experiences appropriately and bring my highest level of professional performance to the table. Also, fitting in with such a tight-knit team… They are the tightest-knit team I have ever seen, and each and every one of them holds each other to the highest practice standard. And me, coming from a leadership position where I had been on the outside of staff camaraderie- I am sure it seemed like I was either super stand-offish or a snob. Transitions have always been hard for me, but I feel like especially over the past two weeks or so I have started figuring out my spot on this team. I feel like I have so much to learn even though I have been an OR nurse for the better part of ten years. This specialty area should not see me bored for a very very long time, if ever!

I have been feeling so much of myself change since I started at Luke’s. The organizational atmosphere at Saint Luke’s is amazing. I have never felt so supported in my nursing practice. What I have had the blessing to witness caring for our patients is truly humbling. Somehow being with these patients is different than all of the other surgical patients I have cared for. It has been very powerful for me on the deepest level of spirit.

My career finally feels like it is exactly where it needs to be. And that has been a long time coming. My new understanding is that I can pursue the career that I have always dreamed of and simultaneously honor my firstborn son, Oscar. I don’t need to fundamentally change what has always excited me about nursing in order to fully honor his memory. The way that I carry myself as I do the work that I love is what matters. That I keep talking and keep sharing openly and honestly about my experience and all that I have learned about mental wellness is the purest way for me to honor my beautiful boy, Oscar.

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Suicide Grief is Complicated Grief

Well. Here I am on the other side of Thanksgiving. Many wonderful things have happened to me in the past week. I met someone. (I met someone!) My Lane kids and I celebrated Oscar’s birthday in a natural flow. It was truly a joy-filled day, which feels so good. I love that I was able to celebrate Oscar and all of the things that made him so incredible, so special, and not be completely overwhelmed by grief. Thanksgiving was unconventional and very chill (this was due to me being so focused on exercising healthy boundaries in all of my relationships this year). We had a day filled with meeting our new dog (who is also a suicide loss survivor- I am sure I will talk more about her at a later time) and eating fried chicken for dinner before I spent a few hours in the later evening with my new love interest on a very unique first date. We vibe on so many different levels, even the really deep ones. It is a new feeling to be truly seen by a man who is interested in me romantically. I have hope for this budding new relationship, but I am also scared. Scared because I don’t have a track record of positive outcomes in this arena for various reasons, not the least of which is grief. Which leads me to last night.

Through a set of circumstances and motivation that was of purest intent, I found myself listening to live music at a bar. It was so much fun to see all of the people up dancing and having a good time, so many smiles. I found myself smiling and bopping around in my seat, which was enough for two different older gentlemen to ask me to dance. I accepted, mostly because I wanted to allow a full experience of the environment, but also to get closer to the stage in order to see the musicians with increased clarity. I danced two or three times with the younger of the two gentlemen to the point that he wanted to start a conversation. He started that conversation by asking my age. Then he told me he was fifty-two. 52. That’s how old Nick would have been if he were still alive. The gentleman asked if he could sit with me and I politely declined, telling him I was with someone. (Working those healthy boundaries again!) We had a bit more conversation. He told me he doesn’t ever go out, but he did tonight because when he got home from having drinks downtown with friends he didn’t want to be home alone, that he lives just around the corner, but he never comes here and he should come here more often. Then he sat back in his seat, which was just in front of me. And I couldn’t help but watch him drink beer after beer after beer. I did what I could energetically to surround myself in a shielding bubble and send whatever energy-sucking tentacles he had sunk into me back to him, but it was too late.

My world began crumbling into a wave of grief. Nick would have been fifty-two if he were still alive. I haven’t quite learned how to negotiate my Nick-sized grief. Our relationship was so incredibly dysfunctional and he was abusive. Terribly abusive. I have just begun working through that in therapy. I feel like sometimes with the grief that I feel as a suicide loss survivor I cannot help but feel a glimpse of the pain that my loved one was feeling when they died. And that really hurts. That is hard to allow. It is very difficult for other people to be around, as well, when I am feeling that way.

There is so much in that environment- the bar- that I haven’t really dealt with, as well. I haven’t been to a bar since before Oscar died in 2015 and even then I was going to the Green Lady Lounge to listen to jazz, which is a much different environment. Nick’s natural environment was the bar. I remember when we first met he was a regular at the Manette Saloon. Everyone knew him. Everyone called him “Nicky the Mayor”. The mayor of Manette. That was the little neighborhood we lived in East Bremerton, right down on the water there. Looking back, hindsight being what it is, that should have been a red flag for me- that he was a regular at the local bar, but his charm and his smile and his eyes outweighed any red flags you could throw at me. Even the shower of red flags that happened the night before we got married was not enough. There was something in Nick Lane that wrapped itself up tight around my heart and my soul. I fell deeply and madly in love with him.

Our first date was a drive to the ocean. He used to tell me that he could see how incredible I was and he knew he would have to plan something really really special to get my undivided attention. We had such a whirlwind romance. He sucked me right into his orbit. He was so smart. I used to tell him he had a sexy brain. Our good times didn’t last long. His true colors came out the night before our wedding. Then the next thirteen years of my life were spent trying to figure out how to get out. We had three beautiful children during that time. I’ve talked before about how each pregnancy I had hope would be catalyst enough for him to change, to quit using and get healthy with me. It was never enough. He only had glimpses of recovery after our divorce. The pain of the grief that he carried was too much for him and he died of suicide just last year. Just last year. That first wave of holidays was tolerated on a wave of adrenaline and shock. This year it is settling in.

So this is the grief that I carry that is Nick-size. This grief doesn’t feel like an old friend yet. This grief feels like unresolved business mixed with deep disappointment and the only truly madly deeply romantic love I have known to this point in my life mixed with the stark realization that it was a farce. Truly madly deeply romantic love does not verbally, emotionally and sexually abuse you. This grief that I carry surrounding Nick is forever complicated. If I have learned anything about grief the past four years I have learned that the only way to accept it is to allow it. Pain like this is hard to allow. Especially this time of year when we are supposed to be joyous and happy, always looking on the bright side. I wish it could be different, but it isn’t. This is my journey. And I will honor it to the best of my ability. I will keep talking and I will keep sharing. I will continue to have the conversation that no one wants to have, the one about suicide.

So I’ve made it through September, and almost all of October, but…

It just doesn’t really get any easier, not at the base, at the foundation of it all. I still feel his absence to the absolute marrow of my bones, all the way down to the molecular structure of my DNA. I keep dreaming about him and his dad and Washington- the other night I dreamt that I was with him, close to him, touching his beautiful face and staring into those incredible deeply perceptive eyes. I woke up and picked a huge wound on my own face, which I haven’t done in years. Great. I have been keenly missing his dad lately, too. All I ever wanted was to be happy with Nick. To get along with the most amazing partner I had ever had- but to do that he would have had to completely change. Addiction is a cunning enemy of life, goddamnit. And it sure was a destructive force on my life, on our lives, all the way around. The root cause of all of the tragedy that I have endured in my life is addiction. I work hard, daily, to make peace with that fact. To accept it, to let it be. And to never let it happen again. This Lane family curse stops with me, stops with this generation. No more. Enough.

Here I am almost through October. This year has actually been pretty okay. I have been utilizing a mental wellness product that is all-natural and it has been helping me to be pretty okay, which is tremendously improved from my typical level of functioning this time of year. It helped me get through Nick’s funeral- of that, I am certain- and helped me to make the most of my time in Kitsap County. It was so incredibly healing. We called it #healingweek. And it lived up to its name in every way. I realized during my time in Washington that the geography there, the land there, the people there, the rain there, the trees there, the water there, the everything there is always going to be half of who I am. Half of who I am. I felt a mission in my life, a pull that was beyond words when I was a teenager running from everything I knew in the Midwest. And it took me straight to Nick Lane in Bremerton, Washington. What a journey it has been. There are so many things that I would have done differently, of course.

One of the things that I have learned just recently is that the people that I had hoped I could rely on for support don’t get it. When the people that you thought supported you no matter what tell you that you are not trying hard enough when your grief overwhelms you with such force that it takes your breath away it is time to find new people. So I took that truth and have been looking for my tribe. I am very hopeful that I will find it in yoga. And I am very grateful that I have the opening of a new studio to look forward to next month. November is hard because it is Oscar’s birthday, so having something to look forward to next month is key.

Something wonderful did happen to me at the end of September- while I was at Pierce’s home debate tournament- I literally felt my holiday spirit float back into my body. At the exact spot where my heart is. This is huge for my family. When I asked Viv and Pierce if they would be okay with staying home for Christmas and decorating the house together they were both very excited! I usually take the kids and run away somewhere for Christmas because it is just too hard to tolerate. Great Wolf Lodge has been key for those getaways. I am not ready for any family ornaments yet- I don’t know when I will be- so this year we are decorating with a beach theme! It is fun to look forward to the happiness it brings to Viv especially. I am certain my youngest little spitfire, Phoenix, will appreciate it, as well. He is only two.

Viv and I had a lot of fun decorating for Halloween- Halloween used to be my absolute favorite holiday with Oscar. He loved to carve pumpkins. The year that he died I had been so looking forward to sharing Halloween with him because we hadn’t carved pumpkins together for two years… he was always so good at carving pumpkins. I took pictures the last time we carved pumpkins together in Bremerton, the year before the divorce. The problem is, I don’t know where those pictures are… I am almost ready to start going through the old pictures. I have so many from when he was little, thank God. They are waiting patiently for me in the hutch where I keep all that is left of him. There will never be enough of him. Not ever.

All of these feelings and all of my experiences spill over into my professional life. How could they not when I am a nurse? Since Oscar died I have felt a need to affect change on a larger scale than I do in my current position. I have experimented with all kinds of different ideas: working in primary care (that was a no-go), having my own intuitive healing arts business (still too small), staying in surgery and working my way “up the ladder” (my current director doesn’t agree that I should advance to manager), simply staying in surgery as a staff nurse somewhere other than where I work now (surgery just doesn’t feel right anymore). Over and over again I feel like I am not fitting. I keep working over all these different scenarios in my mind about how I could stay where I am and just volunteer more, I would very much like to be more involved with the Johnson County Suicide Prevention Coalition, but I am so tired after working shifts at my current position. It is so incredibly draining. The hours are so long and I see how it affects Viv negatively. Another good reason for a different path- different hours.

And I am still finishing school- it is almost over!!! December is my graduation date. I keep thinking maybe when I am done with school it will be different. And it will, but it won’t change how tired I am after a shift running the board in my OR. So I have started applying for positions in public health-related environments as they come up. Basically, if it looks interesting to me and it is something I have never done before as a nurse because it is on a macro-level instead of a micro-level I am applying. It is scary to think about leaving the specialty area that I wanted so much to be apart of for so long when I first started as a registered nurse fourteen years ago. Scary for a variety of reasons. Not the least of which is money. I am finally making more now than I did on the west coast- it took several years to get here. But just how important is money? Very. Sure. But so is affecting change to a system that is broken. And I can’t do that from the boardrunner position in surgery. I really want to work with healthcare issues on a larger scale- so perhaps at Cerner working on developing solutions for population health electronic medical records or working for the Johnson County Government to coordinate and manage emergency preparedness or how about as a middle school nurse?

My point is these are all things I think about, that I experience, that I face on a daily that I never would have if Oscar hadn’t died. I was happy at KU in the Main OR working as a circulator. It was all I ever wanted. The life I was building was going so well, I had finally gotten custody of all three of my Lane kids and everything was finally going to be okay. We were all going to be happy because we were finally going to be together. And it was going to be everything we ever wanted, our family life was because I had gotten clean and was doing the work to heal and be healthy. To be the best mom I could be. But then Oscar died and my world disintegrated. Our world disintegrated. Here we are four years later and it only sort of looks “normal” again. Because I am sort of okay and can decorate for the holidays again. I miss him. More than I have ever missed anything in my life. And it hurts. More than words could ever describe. And it always will. Period.

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September

Oi vey. September. Here again already.

September used to be my favorite month. When asked my favorite season I used to say fall. When asked my favorite time of year I used to answer with September, the month of my birth.

When Oscar died September 11, 2015, that all changed. How could it not?

This year over the deathday week I am taking my Lane kids to the Pacific Northwest, where their lives all began, to bury the ashes of their father, Nick.

Last year, on September 16th two Overland Park police officers knocked on my front door with the news that Nick had died. It was revealed the next day when I spoke with the detective assigned to his case, that he had died of suicide.

We believe he died on Oscar’s deathday, September 11.

It took the better part of six months for Nick’s family and I to decide what/ how to best honor his memory. At the end of April, we all finally came to an understanding that his memorial service needed to happen during the deathday week- it was my suggestion that we honor him on the deathday itself. Since then all of the arrangements have slowly been coming together.

We are attempting to frame this week not as “grief week” but instead as “healing week”. The Lane family is going to once again attempt to put the “fun” in “fun”eral…

I have felt myself pulling way way in over the past several weeks. It started at the first brush of cooling fall air on my skin during August. This round of grieving has once again made it clear who is with me and who is against me. That is an extremely simplified expression of what is a somewhat complicated human response, but it seems fitting to me. When someone tells you that “you are smarter than that” when it comes to having your grief hijack your emotions it seems fairly obvious that the person is not with you. Truly that last thing you need to hear when you are suddenly overcome with grief is that you should somehow “know better”.

Grief is a visceral response to an impossible change in your reality.

There is no thought involved whatsoever.

That experience has helped me, though, once again, to understand myself alongside my grief with a touch more clarity. This is truly something that I feel my way through. And I feel that I am becoming a little bit better all the time at navigating it.

I have been focusing on my self-care more than usual. The basics: exercise, eating nutritiously, sleep, prayer, meditation, bathing regularly. I have also started a new course of mental wellness products which are focused on balancing the Gut-Brain Axis. I think they are helping because instead of feeling completely emotionally spent with zero energy constantly (which is usually where I live this time of year- all the way through until after the New Year) I feel… okay.

Feeling okay is a miracle.

This year I am giving myself permission to enjoy Fall. It is worth a try.

 

Health care policy and reform- this is what I am doing this AM

As I have said before, this blog is not just about the pain and grief of being a bereaved mother and suicide loss survivor, but it is also about sharing my thoughts on the research that I do as I go through finishing my BSN. I have been a practicing registered nurse since 2006 with an Associate’s Degree in Nursing, but after Oscar died I felt that the only way my voice would truly carry and give strength to my opinions regarding health care reform is if I had a Bachelor’s in Nursing. So, in Oscar’s memory, I started back to school the fall a year after he died and I am on track to finish after fall semester this year. It has been a long, hard road, especially now that I am newly grieving for the loss of Oscar’s dad, my ex-husband, Nick, also to suicide. Here is what all of my research and thought processes keep boiling down to: we need universal health care and a universal electronic medical record. Period, end of story. I wrote the following paper for my Public Health Nursing class this morning and I wanted to share.

 

The recent article I found is, “Rebounding with Medicare: Reform and Counterreform in American Health Policy,” by Paul Starr of Princeton University.  From my research on the topic of universal health care in the United States, it became clear that Mr. Starr has a strong voice on the matter with a history of several articles and books pertaining to the subject of health care reform in America.  Mr. Starr proposes that we have an opportunity to expand Medicare through a program he refers to as “Midlife Medicare” in response to the Trump administration’s recent setbacks on our progress to provide every one of our citizens with basic health care.

My personal experience as a suicide loss survivor and my professional experience as a registered nurse inform my passion for health care reform.  One thing has become clear to me as I grapple with the disabling pain of suicide loss- our health care system is the root cause of our ills.  And how extremely infuriating!  Here we are in one of the world’s richest countries and we cannot afford to provide universal health insurance for our citizens?  Mr. Starr analyzes the history of health care reform in the United States and notes that all important reform has been made on the rebound from the failure of more progressive proposals.  He acknowledges that the Affordable Care Act (ACA) has had very limited success in fulfilling its goal of ensuring all American citizens have health insurance.  The ACA has been a downright failure in some respects.  It has forced the price of premiums up while not guaranteeing basic coverages to patients.  In other words, just because someone is insured doesn’t mean they can afford to get care, which does nothing to solve the problem of health care for all.

The devastation of not having health insurance or not having adequate health insurance is heart breaking.  There are so many stories to illustrate the social injustice that not having universal health care causes.  It seems that each of us has been directly affected or is only one person away from being directly affected.  The implications on nursing of universal health care are tremendous.  I believe that the positive effects of universal health care are all encompassing.  If we had universal health care, as a nurse and mother, I would have been able to get the care my oldest son needed without traumatizing him with mental health hospitalization.  I would have been able to guide my ex-husband to the care he needed so he could have received the care he required for the treatment of Crohn’s disease without worrying how he was going to pay for it.  I believe, deep in my heart and soul, that if I had been able to make those two interventions my family would still be complete.

I have thought a lot about how to help our citizens who die unjustly, and I am not just talking about suicide, I believe that many deaths in our society happen that could be prevented with adequate access to primary health care for prevention.  My thought processes always boil down to two issues: universal health care and a universal electronic medical record.  At the core of these ideas is patient safety.  Patient safety is the heart and soul of nursing.  I appreciate Mr. Starr’s work and am grateful I found him.  His suggestion of “Midlife Medicare” as a rebound reform to our health care system is right on target.  A positive step in exactly the right direction.

 

 

Starr, P. (2018). Rebounding with Medicare: Reform and Counterreform in American Health Policy. Journal of Health Politics, Policy and Law,43(4), 707-730. doi:10.1215/03616878-6527996

 

 

 

 

daily grief

Even though I don’t talk about it as much as I used to, my grief still looms large. I really like the grief model with the idea that you learn to grow around your grief. I resonate with that fully. I feel that at first my grief was my entire existence. Slowly, ever so slowly, I started learning how to allow myself to feel other feelings alongside the grief. Over the past 3 years since Oscar died I have become so much bigger than I ever was before- energetically. I feel like my energetic footprint takes up at least twice as much space as it did before I began to grow around my grief.

Doesn’t change the fact that sometimes, some days, there will be some sort of catalyst event and I am moved straight to tears. My grief swallows my energy and I am in that darkness without. The sucking without-my-beautiful-boy darkness. I love Angela Miller (A bed for my heart) and how she speaks strongly about how, as a bereaved mama, you learn to mother not only your living children, but the ones who have died, as well. I deeply resonate with that truth. Every. day.

Yesterday, at lunch, in the middle of the employee lounge, I am eating my leftover hungry root (just started that meal delivery service and so far it has been an excellent experience- I’ve tried many and this one is my favorite) focused on staying balanced and focused with my Kangaroo totem energy and the green calcite in my pocket along with my doTerra Citrus Bliss mixed with Frankincense aromatherapy and I open Facebook. There is a memory from 6 years ago of my sweet sweet daughter, Vivian, and her pink kitchen. Her pink kitchen was her very favorite toy for about 3 years or so and when we moved from Washington to Kansas it was a very very big deal when it was finally shipped to us. It was about 6 months after she moved down here that she was reunited with it. Of course I took a picture of her with it as soon as it was unpacked! Well, there was a comment from her dad. Grief started rolling in. There was a like on the comment and I clicked to see who liked it. Oscar. The tears just started. Just like that. Thank God my dear friend, Emily, was sitting at the same table. I showed her what was up and she scooted close to me, gave me a big hug and I had a few seconds of sobbing. My grief overwhelmings don’t usually suck as much time out of my day as they used to, but only because I have learned how to breathe through them. I breathe through them, feel them and consciously shield them with my entire self. It has taken a tremendous amount of diligent spirit work to get to where I am in my relationship with my grief.

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Christmas 2018

Christmas sucks.

This is Christmas number four without Oscar and Christmas number one without Nick. There was no way I could bear the thought of being at home today, so a few weeks ago I did what Nick would have liked for me to do: book a room at Great Wolf Lodge. We have an incredible room! We got an upgrade, so I have my own room. So wonderful. I am so grateful to be able to do this for the kids and for me. But this is one of the conundrums of grief: feeling two opposite feelings equally as strongly at the same time. I am grateful for the now, spending this time with my kids and having a break from it all, but the pain of loss is especially poignant right now.

Christmas used to always be proceeded by a sleepless night for me and Nick when the Lane kids were all little. I remember Nick used to say, “Christmas should be a good time for us, we deserve to have one good time a year, Jes.” And so every year we would splurge on the kiddos. So many gifts! The tree would always be bursting and the stockings overflowing with all sorts of fun stuff. We went broke each year a little more at Christmas, but the smiles on the kids’ faces were so worth it. I didn’t know that then. The crushing debt was one of the issues that broke our marriage. There were lots of reasons we were dysfunctional and needed a divorce, don’t get me wrong, but the debt added a level of stress that was smothering.

This year, since Nick died, I have been struggling. Truly. Just to see what his death has done to our kids and to feel that heartbreak and also my own in a world that will. not. give. has been exceptionally exhausting. All of the same levels and types of emotion and pain as when Oscar died, but without any grace. None. The world shrugged it’s shoulders and laughed while saying, “let’s see how you make it through this one.” So many emotions. How do you stay focused on the good in a set of circumstances like that?

Lots of ways. I see Oscar everywhere, and this helps me. Sometimes it is unbelievably sad and painful, but mostly it makes me smile and fills my heart with warmth. I stay connected spiritually by taking care of myself. Aromatherapy every single day if nothing else. It’s funny, I take that shit to work and sometimes I feel like I am pedaling drugs because I offer to share my aromatherapy with co-workers who are stressed out. Lately I have been taking aromatherapy and a crystal of some sort to work. And it helps. Oh does it help.

I have also been working with my shadow self to understand what she needs. First I had to free her (see my starsprae intuitive healing arts blog for more about my day to day healing work). Now I am working with her to help her find her voice again. Lots of years of suppression has not worn well on her. She is wild and free, full of inspiration and amazing life. I have seen glimmers, we are working to make it easy for her to be seen. A morning routine of a tarot reading has been part of my healing process for about a month or so now. I love tarot! It is fun and intuitive and it is helping me stay focused.

The hardest work I have had to do recently is in the area of romantic relationships. I think Nick’s death has influenced this quite a bit if I am completely honest. Since he died I have been mourning the loss of so much- the potential of a healthy father for my older children, the only other parent to Oscar (all of those memories that Nick was the only other person who was apart of!- now I am the only bearer of them), the potential for healing our relationship- I would have liked to be friends with Nick again. The feelings are complicated and deep. It will take quite a long time to get through them. Years and years. All of this has made it harder to tolerate relationships in general, let alone the romantic relationship with my youngest’s father that I have been trying to heal. I gave myself permission to set a healthy boundary with him a couple of weeks ago. I could hear Nick’s voice in my head- “The timing, Jessica, the timing! You always have the worst timing!” Yes, just a couple weeks before Christmas and I set a strong friendship-only boundary. I cannot try for anything else right now. I need space.

Space to remember. Space to be the mother to my children that I feel I need to be. Space to grow my talents as an energy healer. Space to make my own home. Space to spread out. Mostly space to remember. So much remembering lately. I love my psychologist. At our last session she encouraged me with this idea, “You are ready when you are ready.” This applies to so many different things! I am ready to remember. I am ready to let myself go to those spaces. I am ready to stand up for my needs. I am ready to forgive (even though that is going to take me a long time to do completely, Nick!) I am ready to live as who I am.

I cannot believe we have to do Christmas this year without you, Nick. I do wish you were here to spoil the kids and share your jolly Christmas spirit with them. It was the one time of year that you always made into the best for us, for them. I know you tried so so hard.

Oscar, there was a three pound Hershey chocolate bar at Walmart this year! I would have bought it for you if you were still alive, no doubt! I miss you so so much. You would have been on your first winter break from college. I wonder what you would have been studying? You would be here with us. On the pull out sofa. Ready to splash and play and have fun with your brothers and sister. You were always my mother hen. Taking care of everybody. I wish I could have done better teaching you to take care of yourself. I know you are still here with us, I feel you here with me right now, but that doesn’t change how much I miss you.

Christmas sucks as much as it is wonderful when you are a bereaved mama and divorced widow.

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