onbeing – Medicinal Conversations

A 2021 post (written 1/2/2021)

I’ve had a reunion, in this Pandemic, with all that really is. Or maybe that which really matters, to me — And I believe the Health of our planet depends on it.

It is relationship that prioritizes dusty roads, muddy rivers, animals and clouds too. It is the rocks and things. Bathing my dinner in sunlight before setting it atop a fire. It is deepened relationship to a small pod of Women… my Uncle too 😉 Via What’s app voice clips we shared our concerns, curiosity and insights. We listened. We learned. We beautifully tended to each other — from a distance, yes. Yet, somehow I feel more enriched than ever. I think they do too.

My wish is we all recognize we are all allies in creating a New World. It’s going to take listening 🎧, self healing, rebuilding. It’s going to take many minds and well intentioned hearts amongst unique and complex peoples. It will take seeing that uniqueness is what’s beautiful — and complexity too. It is going to take throwing your Gurus into the flames. Whether teacher, politician or fashionista.

This New World is going to ask who you really are and what are you here to do? It will ask you for courage, honesty, sovereignty. The new day will no where near, be comfortable — but you’ve made it through 2020. Right now, I’d say expect the unexpected.

much ease and beauty,
h.

Three Texan Women. Three Dogs. And I. One Bathroom.

Two nights ago I sat on the edge of a bathtub, in Oak Cliff TX; (Dallas County) the second stop on my journey to Louisiana from New Mexico. A beautiful white dog with one eye crouched under my legs as three Texan Women and two more dogs took up floor and toilet space. (Not quite socially distanced — but you can probably imagine a Texan bathroom next to a NYC bathroom) The three women and I — A Pisces, Virgo, Leo and Libra (not sure about the dogs’ signs:) were riding out a Tornado. And not just a warning. Something Texans are used to; there was even a siren from downtown Dallas to sound its incoming. Also why do we say “Ride out a storm?” Why not Sit? Crouch? Run? Lol.

So much to say about these women and how they all happened to be/land or live on the current premises and how we gathered in one bathroom that unified us. The gift for me was this: this was my Thanksgiving. Two nights early — minus the food, a table, a familiar face, friends, family. Yet, I made another family, on this stormy night; two of which are now penpals. (I’ll speak on penpals later) Each of the women were around my Mother’s age with the exception of one and all have roughly, the same number of ex husbands.:) Currently all sans Husbands, including myself, as you know.

We spoke of everything under the sun, besides who we voted for. We spoke of my adventures since leaving NYC, fourteen months ago; Egypt really catching their ears. Southern women and their parents, beauty “ideals,” depression, addiction, The Covid 15, (that’s the extra weight) were topics also touched upon. We spoke about Texan old money and Texan new money and the current migration trend around the U.S. of A. We confirmed I must come back for cooking lessons with Claudine, who studied at Paris’s, Le Cordon Bleu at the age of 49. We all agreed, number’s do not matter. But damn, good food does!

To our surprise, it was an hour and a half later when we stood up and exited that lovely bathroom, me returning to my bungalow(airbnb) sans Three Texan women and Three dogs. Just I. What a Day of Thanks.

P.S. The 🌪️ touched down around 15 miles from us.

ONWard — A Travel Nurse(who doesn’t like labels) in the U.S. of A.

Welp, my journey has begun, and part of me wants to turn around and go back to the Mountains. 5 hours on the road today — Got pulled over for going 95 in a 75 about 2.5 hours in.(still in NM) I was so enveloped in a podcast, “This Jungian Life,” with three analysts, discussing dreams followed by the topic, America’s “Wall.” Or is it Trump’s Wall? Oh and I only got a warning. On that speeding thing. Was this White Privilege or a Nurse/Cop thing?? I’m going to answer, “Both.” You’re free to chime in. Also, I really should write in, to this podcast, about some of the dreams I’ve been having…if you haven’t heard.

Speaking of Trump, I’m in Texas now — and apparently the slogan still goes, “Don’t mess with Texas.” Yikes! I will not and I kinda want to — mess with Texas. Though it got dark and I cannot drive so hot after the sun goes down. Anyone else have this problem?? So I went to the supermarket, settled for beer and got the fuck out of there. I just couldn’t. And I don’t really drink beer anymore. The market was like DisneyLand and one of the biggest stores I’ve been in. EVER. Okay, maybe I’m being dramatic. A bit. But there are no bits here in Amarillo.

Masks worn inside = 70%. Worn properly = 50%.

Now remember, I’m coming from Ojo Caliente, a population of not even 600 people. Not thousand. Not million. People — Just People. (These past 7 months) Oh, Ojo. I have to remind myself that this journey is not to compare. It is to BE. In witness. In curiosity. To ask, “what does it mean to be you?” Oh and also, to make a paycheck and have thirty five days off in between Nurse contracts, if I so desire. Desire — Cannot forget desire.

Ok, I’ll have a beer along with my Chipotle and chill in my airbnb,(joking, already sipping #2. Travel expenses get reimbursed, btw, so I picked a good one. Who am I kidding, I would pick a good one either way, as the interior/environment is a value of mine. There are lots of plants here and super cool chairs.(I’m into chairs) I’ll wear my already 20 yr old birkenstocks into the ground before compromising on the “home.” What about you? Shoes or chairs?

Onward

Well, looks like Retirement — 🌊 1, is about to come to an end. I guess I never felt so strong about this word. Retirement. But this wasn’t the first and it won’t be the last. I will retire to many beach chairs, tables, beds, cities, ranches, countries, states. I will break bread with many people. This I know. It’s why I’m here. To break bread. To listen to stories; something that was quite a deficit in our family, as my Uncle and I just conversed about yesterday. I also know, I’m here to express and share those stories, both theirs and mine –This does not exclude the stories of the land/the sea where I may lay my head. It is as important or more so than the people. Think about that for a minute – Or day. To be in reverence with land, is to be a kinder — more humane human. Whether you’re a human that wants to be left alone or like ants marching (insert Dave Mathews) on colorful city streets, it’s quite the same. Just different music.

Honestly I’d be quite content never donning my Operating Room bouffant again. AND, I know, I will be content in doing so. It will look different as I’ve mentioned. I look different now. Feel different now. Being the curious tot, as my friend in Scotland says, especially around Medicine — How it’s practiced, who’s participating, what does it mean to do what we do, for another, and does it matter Red State or Blue State, gives this career all the more intrigue. Meaning.

This woman here, she’s also got some #goals, though I think I like the word dreams/visions better. Goals sound as rigid as retirement. So, with that said (insert the drums) I will begin my first, Travel Nurse assignment on the last day of this month. In LA. Not to be confused with L.A. It is a place that called me first. Perhaps because I spent time there when I was a child and have very little memories, expect for certain smells. Isn’t that interesting? And something I’m sure many will understand. Some of you will say, “But you love NM,” and my answer is, She will be my anchor. ⚓ Ojo Caliente, is after all, the Crone Energy and She is included in my vision. 😉

Much love and of course more to come….💞

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.

Loss and Light

I wept for all the loss tonight.

And all those hearts,

Thirsty, to make sense of it all.

It started to rain then, cool drops

Falling, on warm desert sand.

One seemingly dark cloud,

Hugging, my mud brick shelter.

I beheld the sun’s descent

Surrendering, to the mouth

Of mountains, like paintings.

A bird with grey wings,

Perched on a juniper;

In her company,

We witnessed an ascent of angels.

I will be intimate tonight,

With both loss and light.

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.

Are We Human Or Are We Heroes?

The collaboration and solidarity I and we have been observing in these times, is a powerful testament to the impact Medicine and our Health Care system has on our communities and individuals. I do however question many responses, mainly from a humanistic perspective. I am curious about this very virus and what will soon be revealed, or not. More recently, I’m perplexed with the “hero” archetype. My concern with heroes, especially in medicine is, “Who are we when we don’t save the day?” Save a life. Make a mistake. Die on the line or for that matter, commit suicide. And the latter is not a new scenario as, “Doctors are far more likely than the general population to die by suicide.” (NPR.org 2018)

Pursuing the art of medicine to be another’s hero never sat well with me. Have I been a participant in the betterment of one’s illness, acute or chronic? Yes. A guide, so to speak, that has used her knowledge and skills to the best of her abilities, or so I can only hope? Yes. Have I educated, hung treatments, lead codes, witnessed miracles such as birth and passages of death? Yes. Have I felt a surge of energy and enthusiasm around a crisis? Yes. Have I felt proud? Yes. More potently however, I have been humbled. Humbled by the bravery of my patients and their loved ones. To go to a hospital in need of help is a bold and vulnerable act. Likewise, to be in service to those in need requires courage and vulnerability. This relationship involves a great deal of trust. And on occasion, the recipient of our best care doesn’t make it to see another day.

I have been both witness to and in the patient role in my days. I request no one be my Hero, only to use their scientific minds wisely and with flexibility. To listen. To hear and see not only with their heads. To apply the principles of Hippocrates and to perhaps reflect on a new Health Care Ethos. A humane ethos that has not only patient’s wellness at heart but providers as well. A slowing down versus powering through. A dismantling of Saintly Doctors and one of the most recent(disturbing) narratives, “Murderous” Nurses. I end with the question. Are we Human or are we Heroes? Perhaps we tend to our own personal Hero’s journey, as we unknot our capes and sit at the bedside; taking a glimpse at the insurmountable beauty and mystery before us. Another Human. Another You.

Nurses Week

What are my thoughts on this Nurses Week, 8 months after retiring(for now) my mask and OR Bouffant? Welp, I will first say how sad, exhausted, and yet exhilarated I felt, leaving the so called “prestigious” institution I worked with(in hindsight, FOR) for eight years of my journey. I kissed the OR floor on my last day//The amount of humility and grace I experienced in service (side note: I was never a hero and in my humble and honest reflection around heroism– something doesn’t fundamentally sit right about an aim to be another’s hero) to the brave/vulnerable souls that entered our hospital doors in need of medicine, of care and compassion, need of surgery, of recovery, of trust, to have their voices heard; unfortunately the later being Co-Opted with our diverted attention, the fast, faster faster and more, more more movement of Health Care. And what we are witnessing currently among all the bravado and accolades, is not only the stifling of patient voices(as many are too fearful to show up in the hospital now) but those voices of our very own Health Care providers. Yes, it is true, our humans of medicine, especially nurses; speaking up against injustices has its price. (And this is not new)

My second thought around this week is the gut feeling there is so much PTSD about to surface and many inside the sterile walls perhaps already displaying symptoms without realizing it. Our hospital systems, for the most part, are not and have not been designed to be in service to those in the arena of Care, ie counseling, education, mental health and grievance support and as we presently bare witness to–Protection and Safety. Providers, like patients have become another number/another body. And after tagging and bagging those so called bodies, it’s “Back to work.” Even if you’ve just been to you very own family funeral. With so much more to say, I end this piece with my expression of love for all the Medicine Women and Medicine Men I am fortunate to know. Those that show up to work not looking for freebies and thank you’s as much as they are looking to be recognized as HUMAN.

Earth Day

What if for a moment we untether together? See what happens. What arises from this shaky earth? Ashes to ashes. Will we all fall down? Either way it’s okay to stand; okay to fall. If we fall may we lie there for a moment and listen, ear pressed to a floor of dust.

If we stand, may we bow. Bow to the mystery of life and death itself. Bow to our body, the body of another. To the terror of beauty, of pleasure. Terror of our own pain; aloneness, love. Terror of LOVE. Bow to our own tethered mouths and untethered souls. Tethered hands that long to touch again. And again. May we now comb the earth with our fingers. Plant. Seeds that sow anything but back to normal.