Sure, you might be reading this at any hour of the day, but at my present writing time, I just finished an invigorating discussion with the amazing #BCSM community via Twitter. We specifically discussed nurses’ role in oncology care, and it was lovely to see the diversity of thought and the perspectives on nurses and nursing.
My. Head. Is. Swimming. I’m dreaming up dreams and thinking about people and ideas and patient care and…The chat ended at 9 PM Central Time, which is 2100 in military time, which is what we use in healthcare, as well, for all the non-clinical Nursetopia readers.
Adrenaline is pumping through my veins. I feel it. I’m invigorated. That’s the power of connection with like-minded people, passionate people, world-changers, dreamers, and doers. It’s like a jolt of epinephrine at 2100.
My dad made me a better nurse. He still makes me a better nurse and leader. He just so happens to have done the same for my three other siblings, as well, but we all know I’m the favorite.
I’m fortunate to still have my dad physically in my life, and I never take it for granted. He’s the most humble man I know, and he leads as a servant. Truer than true, he taught me to take control of my own education through reading book after book – and mainly one Book with countless wisdom and applications.
His encouragement is soft and persistent, like good rain. His presence is easy and inviting. His laughter is sweet melody, like the guitar he can strum for hours. He’s a morning person. And if he’s ever hospitalized, I will be that person bringing a box of herb bottles to the admit nurse because he’ll take his garlic, vitamin C, and umpteenth other herbs forever but will never consider them “medicine.” He laughed as I used his medicine cabinet as a first-year nursing student pharmacology project. It was rough. And hysterical now that I really think about it.
Happy Father’s Day to my dad and all the dads and other gentlemen who’ve made fabulous nurses and other professionals! Mwwwwaaaaah!
With all the “latest and greatest” in health care today, the industry stands to learn a lot from other areas of business. Here’s what the Institute of Medicine recommends.
Don’t simply sit back, shake your head, and expect someone else to fix this. Get involved. Maybe you already are. How are you working to make our healthcare system better, more efficient, less wasteful?
The room is quiet.
The gray walls whisper calm, breathy songs.
They seem expanded.
The mirrors reflect the low, golden-sunset lamp-light.
It seems brighter without full light.
The sheets softly hum a higher, sweeter, earthy-gray harmony.
The bed feels bigger.
The dark tables offer both choice words and empty pages.
They feel like anchors.
The air is warmer and cooler.
It feels like a drug.
The room is different.
Crafted for me and my Love.
We laugh at 14 years and our now first experience with two side tables.
Why did either of us ever do without?
Year. After. Year?
We don’t remember.
We don’t care.
We come back to the present.
Fourteen years is enough to ensure everything about and within the room now speaks.
Our language.
After one year in my home, my husband and I completely made over our bedroom. It felt selfish but also needed as I retreat to my home and bedroom frequently to think and write and relive. A friend reminded me how lovely it is to be among the beautiful things that bring joy. I hope you’re among some of your favorite beautiful “things” today. Take care of yourself so you can take care of others.
“Great job, Mom!” My 8-year-old son clutched a piece of paper in the backseat as we were thick in the midst of evening rush-hour traffic. I was perturbed with the stop-and-go-and-stop-again while thinking hard about work.
“What’s up, Bud,” I inquired quizzically as I stared into the rearview mirror.
With as much enthusiasm as if I had won a tremendous achievement, he exclaimed, “You earned three contact hours!”
My day melted away and the traffic became unnoticeable as I burst into laughter. I had just come from a brief nursing education program, and my son had found my continuing nursing education, or CNE, certificate of completion. One CNE certificate of literally a hundred or more I’ve received in my nursing career. Of course, I positively reinforced the heck out the situation: “Thanks, Sweetboy! That means a lot to me.”
Can you tell certificates are kind of a big deal in our home these days? They’re a must with a second grader and kindergartener. I’ve thought about this simple one-minute-or-less of my life many times since it happened. It makes me smile every time I think about it. I’m not sure when I lost my own zeal for certificates. Ten years of nursing, planning countless nursing education programs, and receiving and logging who-knows-how-many nursing education certificates of completion over the years for regulatory and certification compliance have likely jaded my view.
Not anymore. I’ll think of those zealous congratulatory words each and every time I hold a CNE certificate of completion until the day I die. I hope you pause to celebrate the routine achievements of completing continuing education course after continuing education course…even when there’s no one to exuberantly cheer great job!
I’ve been waiting to paint several areas of my home for about a year now. Seriously. And it’s happening today! I’ve had the colors in mind for a long time, but I actually picked out just the right shades yesterday, and man, oh, man was it fun standing in front of hundreds of paint colors. So many possibilities. I walked away with a dark gray for my bedroom, a deep purple for my guest bathroom, a bright salmon for my entryway, and a brilliantly deep aqua for my closet. Yes, my closet!
If you haven’t noticed from the Nursetopia site and printables, color makes me happy. My home changes my mood for the day, which is important to me. My home is also my sanctuary; I love spending time there. It renews me and rejuvenates me.
What about you? Is your home everything you want it to be? Are you a fan of colors?
