My mind is whirling with thoughts, but I literally cannot get it down in my blog without it being super confusing and jumbled.  There is so much to say, I just can't organize my thoughts and say it.

Every week I take my sister out to lunch.  Usually I just pick her up, we make small talk through lunch, then I take her home.

Today was different.  I could see something was heavy on her mind.  Just as I suspected, she started to talk to me, but then stopped short as her chin began to quiver and she blinked back the tears.  Me being the sister/nurse/but.mostly.sister said "Just talk!  Who cares if you cry?"
...and so she did.

These are thet topics that are breaking her heart:

"Why me?  All the tests show my heart is perfectly normal...so why did that happen?"

My response to that was, "I don't think we will ever know."  Now I have only been a nurse for about 4 years.  I never did any critical care nursing, so the patients I see aren't nearly as ill as my sister was.  But MY take on it is that she had a clot in her heart which caused the arrhythmia, which caused the cardiac arrest.  They resuscitated her, and her labs showed cardiac damage.  Several days later, after she stabilized, we found she had lots of clots in her leg and lungs.  Once she was on aggressive Heparin therapy along with Coumadin, things started to heal themselves.  This could also explain why then they finally got around to testing her heart through a cardiac cath and cardiac MRI, everything was perfectly normal.  Of COURSE it would be by that time!  And I don't doubt for one second that it will remain perfectly normal.

"I don't know if CPR was done right.   I'm on a message board for people with brain injuries, and they are doing WAY more than I am right now, and their "down time" was way longer."

My response:  Maybe.  Who will know?  Humans are humans and they make mistakes.  29 year olds don't go into sudden cardiac arrest very often.  When the EMS arrived on the scene, they had no idea what was going on, but they didn't hesitate a single moment.  You were tubed on the scene, and then re-intubated at the ER.  Maybe it wasn't done perfectly, but they saved your life.  The fact that you didn't die that day still gives me goosebumps.  The odds were SO AGAINST you and you beat them.  It's unreal. 

"I identified myself by my jobs.  I worked all my life.  The only time I left a job was when I was moving up.  That's just what I did....I worked"

My response:  Those days aren't done.  Do you even understand how far you've come in a year??  This time last year you could hardly shower alone.  You couldn't carry a conversation and your memory was literally so bad, you would just repeat yourself over and over again.  It'll happen.  It just hasn't gotten there yet.

"I wrote a list.  It's called "Ways to Make George Love Me Again."

Me:  What makes you think he doesn't love you? (insert Leslie crying)  He doesn't say that!  He never makes me feel like he doesn't love me.  But LOOK at me.  I offer nothing to our family anymore.  I was the worker.  We had plans.  We wanted to travel to Europe.  We KNEW we were going to travel to Europe.  And now our conversations consist of  "Do we have enough money to order pizza tonight?" (crying ensues) And at this point, I have nothing helpful to add.  It was a heartbreaking moment.

"I constantly have to remind myself, "I am here, I am alive"...it scares me to think that when I was at school that day, I was also "here and alive" and then one second later I was gone". 

To which I reassured her that she was here, she was alive, she was progressing way faster than any of us could ever predict, and she is doing amazing.

"Someone sent me a card, and there is a part of it that I can't get out of my mind.  It says "God had other plans for you.  I'm not religious, but that saying gives me a lot of peace.  I just wish I knew what God's plan was."

So do we, Les.  So do we.

One of my biggest fears for my children is that someday they will get hurt.  No, I'm not talking about bumps and bruises.  I'm talking about emotional pain.  Because frankly, I think that kind of pain is WAY worse than physical.

At 29 years old (almost 30...eek!) I still can't seem to balance relationships perfectly to avoid hurt and pain.  Deceit and lies.  I know it sounds naive, but I thought that type of thing only happened when you were a child.  But no, it clearly carries into adulthood, and it doesn't get any easier.

I remember a time not long ago, I was with Ethan at a birthday party.  His "best friend" was there, but his best friend had another best friend who was also there, and the two of them were inseparable.  I remember the sad look in Ethan's eyes as he experienced the saying "two is company, three is a crowd."  My Ethan was the "three" in this scenario.  It took everything in me to not swoop in and save the day.  Doing that would serve him no good.  This was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to the dynamics of relationships.

Just recently, I had a friendship that I thought was awesome come to a close.  I was sad about it.  I AM sad about it.  But the more I hear, the more I am starting to realize that this is for the better.  Doesn't make the pain any easier, or the desperation to know all the answers as to where it all went wrong. 

Thankfully, as my children will learn and I already know, there will always be those relationships that remain loyal.  For me, it's knowing that my parents, sister, husband, and a few close friends that I know will forever have my back despite my flaws and shortcomings. 

Thank God for that.

When we left for the night, the only time we ever left her side, we had no clue what the night had in store for her.

My mom asked me just the other day, "When we left her that first night, did you realize that she might die that night?"  To which I replied, "Yes.  Yes, I did."

I knew her odds of survival were slim when I first got the news.  In fact, I remember exactly where I was on Fort Street when it hit me:  "This is bad.  This is very, very bad."

So with Thanksgiving being tomorrow, it is cliche and expected for people to express what they are thankful for.  Last year on Thanksgiving, I had our family go around the table and say what they were thankful for, but the rule was, no one could say the obvious:  That they were thankful for Leslie's life.  Because that was a given!  So here is my mini-list of things I am thankful for:

• I am thankful for the bond I have with my sister.  We are more than family, we are best friends. 
• I am thankful for a kind, patient, and forgiving husband who has been by my side through some God awful tragedies in my life
• I am thankful for my parents, who have told my sister and I for as long as we can remember that they will love us unconditionally.  And they do.
• I am thankful for my in-laws for helping us out so much so Jay and I can both work full-time and keep our sweet babies out of daycare
• I am thankful for teachers, who do such an amazing job teaching my son.  We have been so blessed with wonderful teachers and I am constantly in awe of their patience and creativity
• I am thankful my husband and I have full-time jobs that allow us to be with our children AND provide for them
• I am thankful for our humble, small, cozy home that always looks "lived in".  It's not perfect, but it's ours.
• I am thankful for my two dogs.  They drive me INSANE, but they are so sweet and loving, and watching my kids play with them is the cutest thing EVER
• And last, I am thankful for Jersey Shore, Desperate Housewives, and America's Next Top Model.  Hey, you can't expect me to be all lovey-dovey all the time...I gotta stay real!  Fist pump!

My "thankful" list could go on and on, these are just a few.  I hope everyone has an amazing Thanksgiving.  Appreciate your family and tell them you love them.

Seven some years ago, when Ethan was merely a few months old, I was diagnosed with post partum depression and anxiety.

Because I am a self-proclaimed doctor, though, I knew it wasn't post partum depression.  It was just that Ethan gave me the reason to tell the doctor about things I have been struggling with since middle school.  Yes, middle school. 

At that point, I had a 4 month old that needed his momma, and I needed to be the momma he deserved, so I forced myself to see a doctor.  Since then, I have been on and off antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications until the present time.

Between 2004 and now, I spent a good several years off any medications, and did very, very well.  And then...IT happened.  By IT, I mean the sister crisis.

I know I don't have to go into it at all, because anyone who reads likely knows (and if you don't, go back in the archives to September 2010) but it clearly rocked my world.

Initially, I just took things as they came.  I approached each day with a positive attitude.  It wasn't until she came home that the depression hit, and hit hard.  There were days that had I not had a job and children to take care of, I never would have got out of bed. 

Since then, I am back on medication, which I can say with certainty it has saved my life, but things now are harder than they have ever been.

Antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds only take you so far.  I think of it like this:  Every single day, there is a huge storm brewing inside of me.  Some days I am more powerful than the storm.  Other days the storm overpowers me.  Most days, the storm is in control.  Even on the days that I feel more in control, there is no denying the storm is in the background.

I pray that some day I will feel better and be able to fully go off medications, but I know that is not going to happen any time soon.

I have had people tell me that I need to be hush-hush about my mental stability, because I am a nurse.  To that, I say with a firm NO WAY.  I'm human and I have feelings just like every other human.  Everyone responds to things differently, and everyone is wired differently.  Unfortunately for me, I take everything very hard.  On the outside, I appear happy and calm.  On the inside, I am forcing myself to function.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm not a walking suicide risk.  I have an amazing family, an extremely supportive husband who somehow puts up with me and my emotions, and two children that literally make me thank God for giving me another day with them.  I am in a profession that I have absolutely no doubt at all was made for me, and I have a nice circle of friends that I know I can turn to at any time.

I'm just sharing this because it's a part of me.  It's a part of my day-to-day life nowadays.  I still do what I need to do, and I always feel so accomplished when I fight the storm and win.

"I never saw you leaving 6!  I thought you'd be a lifer!"  .... if I had a nickel for every time I heard that phrase or something equally similar since I announced I was leaving, I'd be rich!
I agree with it, though.  I never saw this coming, either.  I love that floor.  I love the experiences it gave me as a new nurse.  I truly feel it is one of the VERY best floors for a new nurse to start out on, as we take care of oncology patients, hospice, and general medical patients.  You learn SO much.

I don't even recall the exact time that I started scoping out other positions that were out there.  Like I said, I never had it in my head that I wanted to leave.  The 6th floor was my home away from home, and the 6th floor staff was my family when away from my family.  Why leave that?

....but I can also say that I never predicted my perfectly healthy sister to fall critically ill and end up with a forever life-changing diagnosis.  I never predicted becoming so emotionally unstable that I would need to be put on antidepressants just to be able to get out of bed in the morning.  I never knew I would learn in a VERY hard way who my true friends were.

When I interviewed for this position, I went into it thinking I would turn it down.  Then I finished the interview and decided I wanted the position.  Then I worked another shift on 6, and decided 6 would still be my "home", and I wasn't ready to leave.

But then I did some soul searching.  I thought about ME and my health.  ME and my needs.  Sure, there is comfort staying in a place that is close to home.  The only place you have ever known in your professional career.  But that is not what life is all about.

When people ask me if I am scared, I say no.  Because I'm not.  People ask me if I'm sad to be leaving, and I say no to that, too.  Because I'm not.  Leslie is proof that life changes.  It's meant to change.  It's meant to make you feel a little uneasy, hesitant, and even scared.  It's not EVER going to be comfortable and perfect, and I learned the hard  way that if you expect that out of life, you will be very, very shocked when that moment comes that proves otherwise.

I am excited for this next chapter.  I am excited to learn and grow as a nurse.  I am excited for ALL of it.

Zero regrets here.  Bring it!

She was 80-something and extremely forgetful.  She LOVED to talk, and most of her stories were sad.  Like how her husband was an alcoholic and died when she was in her 30's, and her daughter died last year of a heart complication.

She said she felt mostly taken advantage of by her family, and all she ever really wanted was to be loved. 

She truly did have a heart of gold, because she was always worried about everyone else.  If you shared a story about a hard time in your life, it would bring her to tears.  She cared.  A lot.

She was restless and didn't like to sit still, so I would take her for walks up and down the hallway.  We'd stop at the end of the hall where there is a waiting room that overlooks the river.  We'd sit, and she'd chat some more about her life. 

No one came to visit her and no one called.  When the doctor discharged her, it took 2 days to get someone to finally come get her.  She knew that wasn't right, and it hurt her, but she loved her family so much, despite their lack of interest in her.

Imagine my suprise, when, during one of our walks, a man dressed completely in a clown costume, should come to the floor to visit a friend!  I found this to be the perfect opportunity to cheer my 80-something year old friend up.  I introduced her to Bobo, and she was practically giddy.  It was adorable.  She smiled, and asked him to make her a balloon creation, so he made her a flower.  She loved it.

As we were about to leave to go back to her room, she leaned in to Bobo, I assumed to say "thank you" or maybe "goodbye".

No.  She said, "Are you horny?"

Oh yes.  She did.

Kind of ironic how after my little melt down/pity party the night Ethan broke his glasses (and it wasn't JUST the glasses that sent me over the edge.  It was a bunch of little things that all added up.

The next morning, on my way to work, I bent down to pick up one of my favorite Joyce Meyer books to read on my lunch break, and next to it was a slip of paper that read:

"Whatever your sin or your personal situation - give it to God.  Relinquish it.  Trust Him with it - for God is a good God, desiring to do good in your heart and life.  Give your battle to the Lord, whatever it is.  It is His to win.  Trust Him, serve Him, follow Him, believe in Him.  He will succeed for you, within you, and through you."

I have no idea where this slip of paper came from.  The only thing I do know is it is obviously cut out of something, and the something it was cut out of is a bulletin from a church that I haven't attended in about 8 years.  I have no recollection of cutting this out, let alone, saving it.

Do I believe in "signs" like this?  Why yes, yes I do.

Now you wanna know my thoughts on it?  (No, no, you don't)  ....tough!  Muahaha!

The whole idea of "giving your troubles to God" is not something new amongst Christians.  It is something that is said VERY often.  Whenever I think this, I always have this mental image in my head of God standing before me and little ol' me, arms overloaded, dropping my problems at his feet and being relieved on the stress and the weight of the load.

After my SUPER sobbing moment I had the other night, and it wasn't just over the glasses, it was other things, too.  Drama, cattiness, and gossip, finances and making ends meet, etc. I imagined God saying "Dude, you can KEEP those problems!  I ain't even goin' there!"  (Yes, that is how my God talks...don't judge)

But alas, regardless of whether or not I thought God wanted to help carry my burdens or not, I woke up the next morning, and gave it my all.  It would be nice to say it was a wonderful 12 hour shift with wonderful patients who brought me tons of doughnuts, but alas, it was not.  But still, I got up, did what I was supposed to do to the very best of my abilities, and remembered this:  Trust Him with it - for God is a good God, desiring to do good in your heart and your life."