One More Thing about Nurses

There’s been a lot of talk about nurses lately. After stepping back and witnessing all the scuttle, I

decided I have something to share.

I love nurses.

I’ve been cared for by some of the best.

And I thought I’d take this opportunity to thank a few I’ve encountered specifically. Not necessarily by name. See, because the nurses who’ve helped me were never concerned with me remembering their names. Nope. Their only goal was to aid me to better health. The way I see it, nursing is one of the most altruistic careers to go into.

So, here’s to the nurse in Seattle who cared for me post-surgery sixteen years ago. You were young. You were pregnant. And I’m extremely grateful for the way you normalized the situation I was in. I couldn’t stand or walk with ease. I was ashamed and embarrassed by the way my body reacted to surgery. You made me laugh. You even helped me shower when all hell broke loose and my fiancé was two seconds from walking in the room. You gifted me with the belief that someday I’d be okay again. For that I’ll be forever grateful.

One month later, I danced the night away at my wedding.

Here’s to the nurses who cared for me during labor and after I’d birthed my babies. Again, you gave me play-by-plays. You coached me. You talked me down. You warmed my heart. You gave me confidence, education, and empowerment. Thank you.

Here’s to the pediatric oncologist nurse I recently met with for hours, questioning as I feverishly took notes for a book I’m getting ready to release. You were patient. You were informative. You understood my compassion for my character and the situation she was in. Because you’ve loved patients in the same place. I’m grateful you made the time.

Finally, here’s to my sister, who after years building a career in sports marketing, felt the tug to invest in a new career. You know what it feels like to be blessed with a good bedside manner, suffering through years of chronic pain yourself. You turn around and breathe hope into your patients, you instill kindness with every shot given, every tube changed. You are a silent hero.

Nurses change the world.

Is there a nurse you’d like to thank today?

Just Too Good To Be True

There’s something I’m always subconsciously doing while driving around town. I’m on the prowl. I’m looking for something like this…

That I can turn into something like this…

Because this song plays in my head whenever I see a lonely piece of furniture waiting for a brushstroke and a prayer…

 We both benefit. The furniture item gets a new life. And I experience one cathartic, creative brainstorming session as I transform the project. A win-win.

Do you enjoy working with your hands?

*Thanks to my cool neighbors who gave me the pallet above!

I have a teenager. . .

And for most moms of teenagers, I can pretty much just stop there. Because you know. You get it. I have to seize my moments, making the most of the golden hours when she actually doesn’t seem to mind being around me.

Most of the time I get one or more of any of the following: the infamous eye roll, the talk to the texting hand, the not now groan, the “what?” (Which needs no further explanation because all moms of teenagers heard exactly the pitch I’m referring to while reading that), or nothing at all because she’s been squirreled away up in her room all day.

All normal. All natural.

But that’s what makes what I’m about to share so special.

We had one of those irresistible breakthrough days yesterday.

We slipped into one of my favorite zones—the carefree, cut loose, bond-like-we’ve-never-bonded-before zone.

We went shopping. And the point wasn’t to rack up a whopping credit card bill. Nope. We did find a few things, but we had the most fun acting as ludicrous personal shoppers for one another. We had one rule. The other person must try on everything selected for them. (Images burned into my brain: me in the gold dress and my daughter donning the palm tree sweater.)

My daughter picked out these pants for me to squeeze into.

As a joke, I had her try on this frumpy frump.

  

*she gave me permission to post this pic

Because I’m a rock star.

And we laughed until I nearly split those shiny blue pants.

I savored every single second.

Because I remember when she looked like this…

And I remember when I felt like this…

And moments like what I just described are exactly what I’ll be thinking about the next time she stomps up the stairs telling me I don’t understand anything.