healthcare – Medicinal Conversations

Medicinal Reflections

We’ve always protected the community — I mean, with our very best knowledge, resource capacity, skill. With our spiritual, mental, emotional, physical strengths and capabilities. And with that, at times, there has been a cost; to ourselves/our safety/our health. (Physical, mental, emotional, spiritual) You see, we don’t just show up, as humans in white lab coats and certain color scrubs to the hospital. As a matter of fact, those in white coats are often out of touch with the day to day. They’re not aware of the machine running in the background. The minor and major injuries happening to staff. The staff that come sick to work — yes, even encouraged to do so, in a Pandemic — and pre pandemic. Folks in the lab, their desks, in these tiny boxes — I will say this more loudly ∆ There is Nuance. And parts unknown. There is not a one size fits all to this global health crisis or any. There is, as a puzzle – many moving, and nonlinear parts • pieces.

There are humans well intentioned and with great compassion for our communities’ health everyday on the “front lines.” They have worked hard,(some, for 20-30 years)put their career before family, keep this career to feed their families, pay someone’s bail, place others’ health before their very own. I have worked with colleagues on chemo, with breast pumps attached to their nipples, in their own personal crisis’s, that need two jobs, that are in financial and other personal strain. Our patients are not aware of these beautiful messy humans taking care for them, well, because they trust – our badges and certain color scrubs.

Here’s the thing, maybe we should be aware that things are messy – right now. And kinda always are. This is why the hero thing is so fucked up. Maybe people should know that you’re a hero one day – and the next a number : asked to do overtime today and a leave of absence tomorrow. Maybe people should know, there are different ways. Better, I don’t know. But different. We’ve got some big shake ups coming, my friends. It’s time to recognize, we need each other – across the whole spectrum. Varying views, dialogue, information, specialties and stories.

In Health,

Excerpt II

To speak of Personal Power. Choice. Self Responsibility — Is not to be overly Idealistic sans an awareness to those in dire circumstances and Beings that actually lack alternatives. It is not to point fingers or claim one Country’s Health System is better than the other. I think Globally, we can learn alot from one another. One system cannot be had with the other. It’s like our own internal system. A whole system in which we tend to fragment and leave others to fix, adjust, brainwash – us, back to a supposed state of balance. Balance. Something we are clearly fooling ourselves into being/having, once one part is “fixed.” Do you ever notice how when you fix something, something else falls apart? Especially when it’s done quickly, in fear, or with a bandaid; with virtue signaling, adverts, drugs, drink, sex, etc? What happens when you run a marathon post knee surgery, before your body, brain spirit has fully recovered?

Health, I’ve realized, is not so much in saving/fixing – It is in listening. It is in something as disorienting, as a Pandemic, that affected the WHOLE- visibly, to make us question our ways of living. Listening. Being. It has affected us on every level imaginable. And knowable. We have just been asleep. My thoughts and feelings are not to discount the death; the pain, the PTSD nor the Virus. It is actually to lean into it… more. Because I’m afraid we are going to bypass what is essential for recovery – The actual articulation of the experience both personal and from within the hospital corridors. Those that faced something unimaginable/not in the science books. The unbearable pain of witnessing others die alone. The inability to FIX. Cure. Ease the suffering. The desperation. The bureaucracy, to boot.

One vaccine is not the FIX/Perhaps it’s an adjunct. The question now is – How are we going to be Healthy – individually and as a WHOLE. How are we going to stand up for things we believe in? What will we eat? Who will we convene with? Where will we live — Now and ten years from now? Where do we put our money? Time? Energy? Will we understand that relationship to our neighbors/village/community is essential for our Balance? Will we understand that everyone has a story, a set of values, history? That people will think and feel differently than we do – And that the beauty is in difference and our sameness. When we cut a human open in the OR, we all have a bleeding beating heart.

My hope is, we don’t lose the heart.

Peace

Current mood

We think we’re gaining health…when we lost the health a long time ago. Just had a chat with my friend in South Africa; around all things weird, currently. It does not matter if you’re here or there – our world is going through a transformation. Most of us blindly unaware however, to the madness. The Control. The power. The wealth transfer. The poverty. And yes, to the dying. The later, I’d say we were never good with – I speak from a person in the Modern Health system – but does not get labeled by it. I know that letters beside my name, mean shit. The place I work means shit. As in, one is neither better than the other. We are alluded into thinking; if I work for this company or that…then, well then, it’s going to get me somewhere or somehow I will be a better person. This is communal narcissism.

I fully recognize my place in the industry, as a Nurse, is one of practical purposes, momentarily, and truly why I joined forces many moons ago. Yet I was also deluded — I, as many do, went into Medicine not as a business but as a place where we tend and care to those suffering. Well, I’ve realized most of us were suffering. And then we became exploited. I’m not going to spread the gospel on our healthcare system. I’m presently in a position to not give a shit about what former friends, current friends, colleagues, think about our supposed heroic Western Medical Model. Or our supposed Science Heroes. If we truly cared we would not be in a state of Dis-ease. And Disease. Companies would not be pushing junk food down our throats. Drug companies would share vaccine “recipes” to the world. We would not all be on social media — high and mighty chanting from soap boxes. My friend in Cambodia would not be worrying about her community, currently, in fear of starving to death, because of Covid restrictions. My other dear friend, in her 60’s, in the States, wouldn’t have been in a cabin without proper plumbing, all winter long. There would have been water in Mississippi and Louisiana after a freak snow storm. More than a month out, humans, in the deep South were without Water!! Water people.

We are more interested in sending People to Mars. This is fucked up. We are more interested in Pop stars. This is fucked up. We are more interested in fitting in and something so called normal. We are not normal. We are not healthy. The first thing my friend said was “do you see how unhealthy people have gotten over the last year and a half?” Yes. Yes. Because we haven’t been in a state of health — which I said at the beginning of this post. And now, we’ve been in fear. Our bodies are in shock. We have lost control. We haven’t been able to save lives. We have not been touched. We have not had ceremony – around life and death. We are zooming. Fidgeting. Putting guns to our heads – and others. Heads. We were addicted to violence, a long time ago, whether in action or speech. We are addicted to salt. Fat. sugar. Power. Belonging.

Yet, we do not know what it’s truly like to Belong. Most importantly to ourselves. Our first home. Our Body. Our Breath. Our Spirit. We do not know what it truly feels like to feel good here. Safe here. In love, here. This primal relationship to Self and truly feeling in our own Personal Power. With freedom to make our own choices. Sometimes we need to go it alone – in order to discover “The Health.” It’s a journey all right. I don’t know. I want to tell everyone to practice Yoga, take some shrooms, or have pleasurable, frightening experiences often. Or experiences outside our borders. But I don’t know. I don’t know. And it’s not my place to tell others what they :should: be doing. I am just here on this crazy planet with the rest of you – In deep honor and gratitude for all its quirks and quirkiness. In its dis-ease and Health. But first and foremost with Responsibility to Self. If we do not tend compassionately to our Selves – well, everything we do and think is compulsory and disingenuous.

Peace,

The Health

It’s funny, for as long as I’ve been in medicine, the health to me is not the beep beep, buzz buzz, stick, poke, prod, cut, coagulate, stitch, staple, fix, chart, review, time-out, count 1-10 4×4’s. Not to burst a bubble or 20. But most anyone can learn to do the skills of the trade. Ohh I know, now many have a PhD beside their other letters – To me medicine is not about the schooling either. I mean, it is. (Don’t take it so literally 😷) Maybe I trust the mess more – the vulnerable, gutsy, big hearted, kind and tender, nerdy (yes) too, artsy, weird, human to human, hand to skin, funny people, that never think they know everything – nor are they above anyone.

To me the Health is in the Relationships – with our colleagues. (no matter the letters or lack of) There can be no lack actually – just an H a U an M an A an N. It is all hands on deck. It is respect for different ideas, thoughts and points of view. Health is in Recognizing – that sometimes others need more of our weight, our love, our skill, some days. This is not a fight – A competition. Sometimes the Health is Surrender. Surrender to greater powers that be. To things unfamiliar. Health is Connection – always. To our patients. To their eyes, their Spirit, fears, joy, grief, community, culture. It is one hell of a journey. Health is to Listen. A full body listen. It is trusting once again in our instincts. Because when all systems fail – what is left? Usually a story.

Memos of a Current Travel Nurse -Louisiana-

I arrived in LA with this feeling of going backward. Then I thought: One person’s backward is another person’s forward. And maybe there really is no backward, only a continuum. Backward was something created by those on the upper rungs. Those from the moment the watch was invented, setting the timelines for us from Birth to Death.(though Death was never discussed) Many that are drinking the kool-aide, are yet to see the costs. Rather, we bought into the dream, like wide eyed kids playing with Barbie and Ken; bodies pale — until 1980. Shaped like no man or woman, in reality is — until one could buy the plastic with the dream. For most, climbing the rungs was and is the drive to live; Bandaids and Barbie Doll Houses, covering over, the holes in our hearts.

Almost a year into a Pandemic, we’re witnessing what is beneath the bandages. I have experienced images this year of not recovery, but surgery. Bandaids are no longer working — it’s a heart transplant that is underway. And transplants take time, steadiness and a team of beating hearts. One must be comfortable with a little mess and know when to take the right next steps. Maybe with our new hearts we’ll realize there is so much Love to go around. Perhaps in our next Global crisis we will recognize the importance of community, for Richer or Poorer. Black or White. Red or Blue. Looking at blood we know not what belongs to who.

With our new hearts in recovery may we renew our relationship with Mother Nature — knowing our health depends on it. Lastly, as we exit the hospital may we feel a sense of aliveness, compassion, and humility and offer these qualities to all those on our path…whether straight, curvy, backward, forward or on the continuum.

May we dare to dream our own dreams – Be well,

Our lives and Medicine

I woke up missing the sense of community today, of the Operating room corridors I once ran up and down and from room to room in search of supplies. Though I never felt our medical system had their shit together,(Hey, — This is healthcare in America — and yet we are so privileged) I was at least getting some good exercise. I miss the soft(older the better) and smelly scrubs….yes, there’s something to the scent of a new med student or resident excited and nervous all at once to make their very first cut or suture fleshes of skin, back together again. I know. I know. Oh, and I can actually smell those bovie plumes now. Ya know, that instrument that dissects and controls bleeding in one magical wand. I miss the characters mostly. I don’t know if there’s another structure in the world, at least in an urban place like NYC, that houses the most dynamic, quirky, nerdy, fresh, caring, striving, hardworking, risk taking, humans all in one place. From across all walks of life — Politically, socially, economically — unified(and sometimes not) to take care of other human beings. It’s quite miraculous actually. Such a complex system, that each and everyone one of us walking this planet cannot, and will not escape being a participant of. Well, I digress. For some, the choice becomes this or that. My health or supper on the table. My health or the roof over my head. The health of my child or the health of my mother.

There should never be an OR; only an AND — in Our Lives and Medicine.

Knowledge

My best knowledge has come from being in the world. From my patients the past twenty years. From community, villages, cities other than the one I was born. Beyond the walls of North America and within. However, mostly from “outsiders.”

I’ve been educated by children. Yes, children. Ironically, I feel the West needs to grow up. I’ve been nourished by different colors, points of view; families full and rich with love. Ritual. My schooling came beyond states of emergency and from facing my own fears. Lessons mostly arrived from Mother Nature. I’ve learned from others’ dream, sorrows, and overwhelming generosity. Dancing, celebrating, eating together regardless of our complexities. And just because — We are Human. Humans with tremendous capacity for intimacy, respect and joy.

Yes, books are beautiful and bountiful and just plain orgasmic, sometimes. But not a thing has made me more FULL and knowing than direct communion with that, that I AM. And sometimes that is an old gas station for yours and my, viewing pleasure.

Resuscitation -Take I-

In these most unprecedented times, the public has been swarmed with a range of portraits/narratives into a medical system that has been quite frankly, working in the closet for years. I don’t think there’s ever been a moment where we’ve had more of a closeup, inside the walls of our hospitals. This closeup though, needs further attention. First and foremost, may we observe lightly as well as think deeply and more objectively into the lens we are viewing from outside the walls. Things are never as what they appear to be….we know this. We live in such a time of glossy and or fake news/entertainment, agenda driven squares and quite frankly, an ever evolving lack of self authority and responsibility.

In order for us to transcend — renew a sense of responsibility in our Care systems, I think we must begin to storytell. We need stories from deep within the hearts of medical providers. We need the tragic and the beautiful. The moments we have been touched by our patients, when we have learned something from them, and moments we’ve realized, mistakes were made. We need the stories of birth and of death and how we can accommodate both transitions better. We need to hear humans over machines; hearts over minds, at times and the stories that are impacting our environment as well as the health of the providers/patients within these walls.

Recently, I have listened to many perplexed and anxious medical minds and bodies on the forefront. And we perhaps, have an even more bewildered and scared mass of bodies waiting outside, to be seen by these insides. My hope is we resuscitate a culture that’s too often boot straps and boxing gloves. That we become alive and healthy again through truths, stories and broader perspectives of what it means to be a human in health care. The good, bad and the ugly. Hey, and if you want to do a dance at times, dance. I guess just looking into the intention, within that celebration. Because remember, the outside is always looking in, fortunately and unfortunately with a more scrutinous eye. At the end of the day may we all be Ambassadors for something larger than ourselves.

Nurse Me

Well here it goes. The Nurse me. If we want to speak of “battles” then I have a battle wound or two. These wounds are more akin to tears(holes, breaks) in my heart. It’s ironic, as my inner compass showed me Medicine for a reason. But it appeared to me,(through my body/my health)in almost my 20th year of service that the way of the West, the way of New York; powering through, the way of metrics, evaluation, speed, waste, and profits no longer met my inner standards/values of what Medicine means to me. In my heart.

I worked and pushed through a lot of disempowerment in my hospital days. The only thing bringing me back from these edges was not a boss that says “If people aren’t happy, they can leave.” It was the immense humility to connect and be present, make more comfortable, to see; to see another through a most vulnerable time. Through the gifts of what medicine, at its roots, also entails. Yet these gifts, and I will name them, are the Femine values and virtues/the intangible/the unmeasurable,unquantifiable parts to the whole, that often go unrecognized. It is the gift of selflessness; as a human being on their deathbed that says. “Give a piece of me to another, please,” and they donate an organ. It is the Nurse that shows up to work countless hours to send money home to their families. It is the Caretaker that comes to work sick, because there lies in these systems, lots of trickery, guilt and shame. It is a system that, in the current conditions, looks so unified on the outside. But the truth is, it’s broken.

This is not meant to drag the current resilience, bravery and light by which we view the Health Care system off the stage. I only write this to cast some shade…because there’s always a shadow. I admit, I felt betrayed as I walked out of the locker room after eight years of service to a place I brought heart, soul, light and wisdom to. But I am also so proud of who I’ve become in the process. I know that we each are our own Medicine following our own heart’s Lub,Dub. And I was definitely one, to march to the beat of my own drum, always. I guess I no longer felt part of the beat.

Are We Really at War?

With much respect for those on the health care lines, always, including the patients, I bow to you. I also want to take a moment and express my concern around the “war” language blooming in these deeply strange and ambivalent times. To go to “war” on something that “doesn’t want to fight with you,” is a narrative, after deep thought, that I’d like to see retire. – The Saving lives as a Battle – The War on Drugs – The War on Poverty- When we use terminology such as battle, fight, kill what are we communicating to the layperson? To the sick? To the vulnerable? To ourselves? Do we call it a “fight,” to perhaps soothe our very own fear of mortality, stroke our egos; ease our pains?

Our health isn’t an absence of illness whether acute or chronic. It’s neither an absence of virus, trauma, tumors, infection or mental affliction. These pieces, either one or/and the other that may visit us one day or already do, are parts of our WHOLE health. Just as poverty and drug addiction are pieces and reflections of a society and its health at large. We don’t need to battle it. We need to understand it from a holistic lens; to view the bigger canvas. We need to treat a human being undergoing surgery, as a whole being, not as parts to a car. Even treatment from a microscopic realm includes vast geography. These parts of me , you, society are not intentionally trying to battle us. So why wage a war?

I ask, “Is there an alternative expression for War?” I don’t know, but I think it’s time to grow out of hostile acts, upon the Other and most importantly, our Selves.