On Albatrosses and Dancing Under Spider Webs

I am a believer in full disclosure.  I believe in telling the truth, even when it hurts—especially when it hurts. 

However, I’ve been hiding something about myself from people I don’t see on a regular basis.  It’s really an omission, in that I don’t tell you the whole story, even when I attempt to tell the truth.  Hiding is comforting, it’s a place of refuge and relative anonymity, it can offer a sense of safety in a world in which exposure is dangerous, damaging, and death-dealing.

But hiding becomes a web of intricate lies and delicate stories—a spider’s web of the thinnest of filaments, easy to bend and even easier to break if you don’t watch yourself at every moment.  Even lying by omission becomes hiding after a while, and you stick with it because it’s easier and more comforting than the vulnerability of truth telling—even when it is burdensome to hide.

That burden weighs down, like an albatross, even though you might feel free in a significant portion of your life.  The albatross causes you to duck out of sight, yoked with the burden of hiding, avoiding the spider’s web like your life depended on it.  Because it does.  It becomes an issue of life and death, weaving and ducking to protect yourself as you carry your albatross, showing just enough of your personal truth that you can get by.

Because of that burden, I have become a poorer ally for myself in situations where I would normally have the courage and strength to speak up on my own behalf.  That burden prevents me from speaking up when I am/people I love are microaggressed or discriminated against in interpersonal situations.  That burden silences me, keeps me in the dark, avoiding interactions that risk my exposure.  Disclosing the truth is such a daunting obstacle that I file it in the furthest recesses of my mind, hidden behind boxes of History of Religion and Constructive Theology and Pharmacology for Nursing notes, exams, and research papers.  I forget that my truth is even back there, gathering dust even as I live it out each day. 

Here is what I have realized: I live my truth in some respects and not in others.  I thought I would be okay with this, content with a modicum of truth-telling while concealing pieces of myself from people, from institutions, from myself.  It will be better this way, I thought.  Less risk, less vulnerability, less painful disclosure, less anticipation—and, frankly, dread—of others’ reactions.

As I have continued to think about the burden of not telling the truth—that is, my whole truth—the ways in which people may or may not react is what paralyzes me, keeps me carrying my albatross as I continue to duck the spider’s web.  What will they think? What will they think of me? Will I lose relationships? Friends? Family members? Community? Connection? 

My professional training as a healthcare provider and as a pastoral caregiver tells me that the ways in which other people react are a direct reflection on what they think, feel, and believe.  This is easy to learn in theory, and even easier to tell other people.  But when it’s you, it’s different. And hard.

Other people’s reactions are not about me—until they are.  Until they jeopardize personal and professional relationships, opportunities, and support networks.  Then other people’s reactions directly impact how I work in the world.

My pastoral training would like me simply to dismiss these people and their reactions.  But I’m here to tell you it isn’t that easy—to dismiss relationships you and your family have had for years, decades, generations, that have stood the test of time.  Well, the test of time until you elect to tell your truth, your whole truth, out loud and without apology.

So what is this truth?  Why haven’t I told everyone everything from the beginning?  Why is it both an albatross and a spider’s web?

The truth of it all is that I am Caroline.  It has taken me a long time to get to learning who I am, but I am not apologetic about that.  Every single piece of my lived experience plays in to who I am and how I work in the world. 

Being Caroline involves my years of graduate study in Nashville, to learn better how I can be of help to others as I have been the recipient of so much assistance and love.

Being Caroline involves my spiritual life as an Episcopalian, a person of faith, continuously exploring, asking questions, and growing as a child of God, loved and beloved from before it all began.

Being Caroline means that I have been on an amazing journey of learning more about my sexuality.  I thought for a long time that I was meant to date and be in romantic relationships with male-identifying people, but as it turns out, that is not true.  I believed for a long time that this meant I was broken, somehow defective.  No one told me this explicitly, but they didn’t have to: it’s something I learned from society at large.  So I convinced myself that I would remain the “fun aunt,” help raise my nieces and nephews and godchildren, and live a happy life.  While I would have enjoyed being the fun aunt as a single person, I still felt like I was not called to a life of intentional singleness. 

Through several beautiful, crazy, life-changing years, I have come to know myself as a woman who loves women.  Terms for this include same-gender-loving, lesbian, gay, and queer.  I use queer to describe myself to other people for several reasons:

First, I do not meet social norms in my romantic life—that is, I am female-identified, and society tells me that as a female-identifying person, I am to be in relationship with male-identifying people.

Second, I believe it to be part of my vocation to work for the liberation, rights, and equality of all people, regardless of their sexual orientation, sexual identity, gender identity, and/or gender expression.  I derive this meaning from the work of theologian Carter Heyward, who uses the term to denote “all people, whatever their own sexual identity, who stand in public solidarity with gay men, lesbians, bisexuals, and transgendered/transgendering sisters and brothers.  To be queer is to struggle enthusiastically without apology against heterosexism (not heterosexuality) and homophobia.”* I acknowledge that this term has a storied history and is still used as derogatory slang; however, it is also the term that most fully describes how I operate in the world as a human being.

But how I identify myself to the outside world matters substantially less to me than how I feel inside myself.  Labels are external and artificial, and create boundaries that I view as destructive and hurtful.  But that’s an entirely different conversation.

This process has been full of love.  I have fallen more in love with God, with others, and with myself.  I increasingly understand that human beings cannot look into the face of God and live: I am struck, daily, by the love of God, self, and neighbor that grows and develops within me as I become more of myself.

I haven’t changed, but I have.  I’m still Caroline, and I am more fully Caroline than I ever thought possible.  My world has expanded, I have become freer, and I am so much happier than I ever let myself believe.  I am madly in love with an incredibly beautiful and brilliant woman and we are committed to love and to each other. 

I am Caroline.  This is my truth, my albatross that I have carried because I have feared the loss of relationship.  I am because we are—you and me, together—and I believe in full disclosure.  I am willing to be vulnerable, to take risks, to expose my whole truth in the interest of true relationship, community, and love. 

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*Carter Heyward, Saving Jesus From Those Who Are Right: Rethinking What It Means to Be Christian (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1999), 224n3.

Reflections, 11 August 2014

I found it interesting (from a position of social analysis) and disheartening that the death of a celebrity secondary to mental illness temporarily overshadowed news coverage of the murder of an unarmed teenage boy by a representative of the local government.

Many systems of oppression and power are at play on each situation: on the one, celebrity, addiction, and the stigmatization of mental illness. On the other, privilege, racism, profiling, the inherent discrimination of stop-and-frisk, and the undeniable escalation of violence in areas of lower socioeconomic status. These two tragedies--for this is what they rightly are--display different levels of oppression and ostracization within the same nation.

They should not be compared, or one used to edge the other out of headlines, but both considered and given their time. People are hurting, and to diminish the hurt of a fellow human being because it is not the hurt you are feeling is disrespectful and inappropriate. I find it intolerable to insult the memory of the community around the victim of one tragedy simply because awareness is being raised about a community surrounding the victim of another.

I find it troubling that the murder of an unknown unarmed black male teenager was ignored in the news media to cover, in a sensationalist fashion, the death due to mental illness of a white male celebrity.  I find it equally troubling that the memory of the white male celebrity is disrespected as a result of the news media's failure to follow up on the story of the black male teenager.

Overt action is not required to impugn the memory of the black male teenager. It has already been disrespected by being covered up by sensationalist celebrity news coverage. This is unacceptable in a society founded on the belief that all are created equal, and daily it is more apparent to me that that is not true in this nation. This is not a new realization; however, it has been demonstrated to me in the last week in a blatant fashion across social media outlets and selected news coverage sources.

I am committed to work for the system to change. But it takes all of us to change a system that unfairly impugns a tragedy to highlight another. This is why I am in graduate school, this is why I participate and activist work, and this is why I believe it in a radical love for all people. I ask you to recognize the spark of the divine, God, or whatever beliefs system you subscribe to, that is inherent in each human being by virtue of their very being.

We are equal (if not in the eyes of the government, at least in the eyes of the Divine).

We are worthy of notice.

We are deserving of love: we have been loved it since before we understood what love was.

For me, all of these things begin and end it at the principle of radical love. I have love for you, my neighbor; I have love for you, person who does not agree with me; I have love for those I have not ever met; for these are all my neighbor.

It is as important to combat the stigma against mental illness in this country as it is to combat police discrimination and racial profiling that is the direct cause of the death of unarmed and innocent black men. Both of these systems perpetuate death.

The farcical great American melting pot is threatening to boil over. Instead of making us all one, the melting pot erases what makes us different in favor of a narrative that eliminates diversity from being a value, and it stigmatizes anything that does not look white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant, heterosexual, and middle-class.

Deep wounds have been reopened, scabs picked until they seep, new gashes ripped over fresh scars.

I ask you to treat one another gently, with compassion and grace.  Please do not forget that we each carry our own burdens, emotional and physical; as well as the emotional and physical repercussions of past and current events on the local, national, and international stages (why aren't we hearing more about ISIS, re-militarization of Iraq, folks evacuating Syria, debt crises in South America, how many innocent civilians died today across the world?).  We cannot guess the sum total of what each person carries within him/her/theirself by scanning their clothing, posture, skin color, and gender expression. 

I commit myself to seeing you as a person first, loved and loving.  I commit myself to expanding my love to work against systems that perpetuate oppression of and discrimination against my neighbors who don’t look or behave like me.  Would you do the same?

The kin-dom of God, as experienced in North Carolina

On a trip to Asheville in early May, we stopped and experienced the drum circle that is a standing tradition on Friday nights. Visitors and residents alike sit, stand, dance, play, and embody what it means to be alive and truly free.  This is the Kin-dom of God: open and embracing all who come regardless of their appearance, beliefs, or who they love.  The little children also came: they moved to the beat, or against the beat, or in syncopated half-steps that matched only the rhythm of their hearts.  This is what it means to be a participant in the Kin-dom: smile, dance, wave, welcome new arrivals with open hearts and open arms.  After a couple moments of watching, I couldn't help but move in tandem with the drums and let my own heart's rhythm let me fold myself into the music.  

I wanted to stay in that spot, swaying back and forth, forever.  To watch the men, women, non-gender-conforming/non-label-claiming folks, and children dance, skitter, embrace, and throw their heads back in divinely joyful laughter.  Genuine expression, warm hospitality, a welcome into the rhythm of shared life in the drum circle: this is the life I strive to live, the way I want to dance, the welcome I seek to extend to all I meet.

The drum circle reminded me that God is truly all around, everywhere, inside of each of us.  How else could we respond to the beat of a drum, the beats of a hundred drums, with a sparkle in our eyes and a willing movement in our steps, smiling at each and every manifestation of the God Who Dances With Us?  The drum circle reminded me to look at every person as if she/he/they are God, for they truly are: they are made in God's image, out of the love of God, intended to live out that love in all that they do.  So now, when I'm feeling sad or downtrodden, I simply look at people--that stunning array that shows us only a fraction of who God is, was, and can be for us.  The God who is texting everyone the photos of the drum circle in progress, right next to the God dancing with Her child while wearing a pink fuzzy top hat, immediately in front of the God who embraces His dancing partner as they together move to their unique rhythms, to the left of the God embodied in the movement of God's children who smile and laugh as if they know no pain.

But we all know pain: the drum circle's magic is that everyone brings who they are into the circle.  Their abilities, their different capacities for love and relationship and physical engagement, their needs and desires and wants, their joy and their aching hearts.  No baggage is unwelcome and no baggage is left behind.  God is big enough to hold all of it, God welcomes us and embraces us just as we are--whether you've got a matched set of leather valises or a dusty, world-worn duffel bag full to bursting.  God is big enough to stretch out God's (anthropomorphized) hand past where we are told that God ends, past our hurts and joys and pains, past the horizons of our imaginations.  

This is why, for me, God can only be (more) fully experienced in community (I would argue that we cannot experience the true fullness of God and live).  Without the presence of others, others made in the image of God, how can we truly know what it means to have faith in ourselves, faith in each other, faith in the future?

Today I am thankful for those shared moments in the drum circle, the moments in which I saw God, praised God, and danced with God in community.  

if the Kin-dom of God is a quilt...

...greetings friends! My apologies for the long silence. Below, reflections on the journey thus far, and a prayer I shared with the VDS community at worship last semester.

Divinity School...I'm not sure where to start.  It's a glorious break from the stress and tumult of nursing school, nowhere near as cut-throat, and is what my soul needs.  I have found myself on the Worship Committee and active with the group of liturgically-minded students, the Office of Women's Concerns, and GABLE, the LGBTQIA alliance at VDS.  I'm also on the LGBT Speaker's Bureau for the university.  I'm blessed with enough time, or at least breathing room, to do activities outside of school work, which is refreshing.    

To be honest, I couldn't be happier to be at VDS for my MDiv.  It's the place that I needed to pursue the academic study of religion and parallel it to my discernment for ordination.  But it doesn't mean that it is perfect either.  Happily, student groups are willing and able to ask the hard questions and look for the answers.

Last semester was Hebrew Bible, Formations of the Christian Tradition (history from death of Christ up to the Reformation), Pastoral Theology and Care, and Women and Religion.  Pastoral Theology and Care was by far my favorite class, and the readings were incredible.  We of course talked about all the light and fluffy topics: domestic violence, sexuality and spirituality, addiction, family systems theory, ritual....  It was transformative.  I wrote about experiences of giving and receiving pastoral care, which was difficult but also informative about how I interact with others outside of a medical context.  

This semester's lineup is also full of awe and wonder.  New Testament, History of Christianity in the Reformation Era, Feminist and Womanist Theological Ethics, and Prophetic Preaching and Social Justice Ethics (an excellent way to fulfill a homiletics requirement in my opinion).  I am looking forward to it like I never looked forward to nursing school, and the expectations have been exceeded in multiple corners.  The readings I do for Feminist and Womanist Theological Ethics and Prophetic Preaching, in particular, include topics and themes I have always wanted to explore.  I feel so privileged to get to discuss them in such a wonderful environment full of support.

I see nursing as a goal-oriented degree, they want us in and out and licensed to practice.  This is not a bad thing at all--we need to be in and out so we can help others.  It's for my rational, logical, analytical, left-brain.  Div School is all about the process: none of us necessarily knows in what direction we will go, and we are here to discern, grow, and fellowship in the community.  It's about creativity, working outside the box, and discernment--for my right brain.  For this opportunity I am exceedingly grateful, and my joy overflows on the regular.  I also have phenomenal friends: most if not all of my Div friends are like me, with old souls in young bodies.  I feel so lucky to have these companions on the journey.


A Prayer to the Quilter, for Community

Let's say that the community is a quilt.  Community could be the Kingdom, or rather, Kin-dom, of God, the communion of saints, the people gathered around us, the cloud of witnesses...you get the idea.

In that spirit, let us pray for unity--unity of heart and mind and soul and strength in the face of divisions, partisanship, wounded and broken people, need, hunger, and pain.

If the community is a quilt, we the individuals are scraps of fabric, remnants of blankets and clothing, well-loved and ready for new purpose.

If the community is a quilt, God--the divine spark--YHWH--Allah is the quilter.  Seated at the table, surrounded by scraps, the Divine works with love and dedication to prune and shape each piece to fit into its place in the quilt.

If the community is a quilt, Christ--Buddha--the prophets--Muhammad, Peace Be Upon Him is the sewing machine, or the needle.  The messengers knit together even the most unlikely or funny-shaped pieces in such a way that the quilt is one, indivisible.

If the community is a quilt, the Holy Spirit--the Paraclete--the Cool Breeze--the intangible--ruah is the thread, touching each piece, unseen but sensed, holding each edge, weaving our stories together into the communion of saints and cloud of witnesses.  

If the community is a quilt, the community of faith--cloud of witnesses--gathered people is the batting.  In the space created by the uniting of scraps, it warms those who sleep beneath the quilt and gives each scrap a tangible purpose.

If the community is a quilt, we are members of a warm, connected family united by the Spirit, machined by the prophets and messengers of our traditions, cared for by the divine spark present in the world.  We are wanted, loved, and cherished at the same time we provide care for others.

Oh Quilter of Souls, grant that we do not forget our location amongst the uneven or contrasting components of our quilted community.  Grant that we may always feel the work of the threads of the Spirit, that tether of community; and that the exacting purpose of the prophets our stitchers will keep us together in mission.

Oh Quilter of Souls, make us ever mindful of the warmth of the community, even in coldest night.

Amen.

(c) cmdl 1 Nov 2012

August 2012 Update

Dear family and friends,

My apologies for the extremely long silence.  The second and third semesters of nursing school sucked me into specialty rotations, tests, papers, presentations, and the unfolding journey of becoming a nurse.  It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and a challenge I was ready to meet.  I truly love being a nurse: the honor and privilege of caring for other people at their most vulnerable is something that gets me out of bed in the morning and keeps me awake at night, pondering the possibilities of and the meaning behind different illnesses.   Specific days and tests are foggy, but every patient I cared for will remain with me, both as people and as opportunities to learn.

I moved from southwest of downtown Nashville to East Nashville at the beginning of July.  It was time to make the move—I am now in a smaller two bedroom, one bath apartment that is much more comfortable and feels much more like home than my first apartment in town ever did.  I have spent some time this weekend making new art projects and hanging pictures, and I feel a lot of ownership and a sense of home!  Let me know if you’d like my new address.

My first year of nursing school ended on July 26^th, and I left for a whirlwind two-week tour of the Pacific Northwest.  I saw my parents, brother, my mom’s sisters and their families, as well as friends from college.  I also had some time to relax and enjoy the brief break from school. 

During my break I also received authorization to take the NCLEX, the RN licensing exam.  I will be taking it September 8^th.  Please think happy thoughts!

I am now back in Nashville, preparing for the start of orientation for Divinity School in the morning.  Classes start next Monday.  I am very excited to shift gears into a more academic setting and ask the hard questions about faith with others on the journey.  I also feel that I am more prepared for Divinity School than I have ever been.  After a year’s worth of work in nursing I feel that I have begun one part of my professional preparation, and now I am open and ready for whatever the next part of my academic and professional journey will be. 

While I cannot promise any kind of timeliness in terms of future updates, please be reassured that no news is good news on this front.  I think of all of you, my support system, frequently, and know that I love you and miss those of you I don’t see regularly!

Love,

Caroline

New Year's Reflection (Reflexion del Ano Nuevo)

Happy New Year!  I hope that your holiday seasons were full of joy and peace.

Semester one of nursing school was a wonderful experience.  Towards the end of the semester, I started to feel confident in my competencies as a bedside nurse, although I know that I still have a lot to learn.  That is what excites me for semester two—the challenge of learning new information, integrating it with what I know, and applying my knowledge in the hospital setting.

I will have four classes for Spring 2012, instead of the five I had in the fall.  One is an introduction to nursing research, one is the continuation of the pathophysiology sequence I started in the fall, the third is the second component of the pharmacology course, and the last is the clinical experience course.  As part of my clinicals this semester, I will be doing specialty rotations.  I start in obstetrics, where I might be in Labor and Delivery or the newborn nursery, and after five weeks I will rotate to Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital for my pediatrics clinical.  I will then do five weeks at a psychiatric hospital in the area, and I will be back at Vanderbilt for an adult medical rotation for the first five weeks of the summer semester.   All of these experiences excite me and I am looking forward to the different learning opportunities I will have.

I am full of nothing but gratitude for the life I am living.  The constant reinforcement that I am in the right place at the right time keeps me going when I am tired, stressed, or wondering why I signed up for this crazy program.  My mom’s favorite thing to tell people is that, when I call her, she can hear the smile in my voice.  Hopefully you can see the smile I convey in my words.

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¡Feliz Año Nuevo!  Espero que sus fiestas fueran llenadas de paz y alegría.

Mi primer semestre de la escuela de enfermería fue una experiencia maravillosa.  Al fin del semestre, empecé a sentir confianza en mis habilidades como enfermera, aunque yo se que hay mucho que aprender todavía.  Por esa razón estoy muy emocionada empezar mi segundo semestre—tendré el desafío de aprender información nueva, incorporarla con lo que sabia, y aplicar mi conocimiento en el hospital.

Tendré cuatro clases durante el semestre primaveral del 2012, en vez de las cinco que tuve en el otono.  Una seria una introducción a los métodos de hacer la investigación en enfermería, una es la continuación de mi clase de la fisiología humana que empecé en el otono, la tercera es la parte segunda de mi clases de farmacología, y la ultima seria la clase de mis experiencias clínicas.  Yo tendre rotaciones de especialidades medicas durante este semestre—mi primera seria obstétricias, en que es posible que estaré en cuartos del trabajo de parto o el vivero de los recién nacidos.  Después de cinco semanas, iré al hospital pediátrico de Vanderbilt para mi experiencia clínica de pediátricos.  Entonces tendré cinco semanas en un hospital psiquiátrico cerca de Nashville, y regresare a Vanderbilt para una rotación en el hospital con pacientes adultos durante las primeras cinco semanas del semestre del verano.  Todas de estas experiencias me emocionan y estoy alegre de encontrar las oportunidades de aprender cosas nuevas en estos varios ajustes.

Soy llena de nada mas de gratitud para la vida que estoy viviendo.  Tengo el refuerzo constante de que estoy pisando la vía correcta al tiempo correcto, y este sentido me motiva cuando estoy cansada, estresada, o preguntándome el porque de empezar este programa.  A mi mama le gusta mucho decir a otra gente que, cuando la llamo por teléfono, ella puede oír la sonrisa en mi voz.  Espero que ustedes puedan ver mi sonrisa en estas palabras.  

Awe and wonder (La admiracion y la maravilla)

We are three weeks in to clinicals and thirteen weeks into nursing school, and I don’t think I could be happier in the 90% of my life that I absolutely enjoy.  The other 10%?  That’s the bad days, the stress, the late nights studying.  

Every week, I write a reflection as part of my clinical experience class.  Here is my reflection from week 12.  

            The most significant moment for me this week was a patient interaction.  While doing IV checks for the charge nurse, I walked into a cancer patient’s room.  I introduced myself, checked her IV lines, and then asked how she was doing and if I could get her anything.  The small lady, her bald head barely sticking out of her sheets, began to cry.  She was having an emotional day, she said, and it was her last day of chemotherapy for leukemia, and her family lived two hours away and could not always be here with her.  She was preparing for a bone marrow transplant and was very thankful to be at Vanderbilt getting treatment, but being far away from her small family was really hard.  I squatted by her bed and asked her to tell me about what she was feeling.  Her feelings of helplessness, concern, and worry poured out of her with her tears, and I asked if I could hold her hand.  She was insistent that surely I had somewhere else to be, and I told her that she was my priority, that I had all the time she needed.  She asked if I would pray with her, and I said I would, and she asked for strength and healing, and then asked God to bless me, the nursing student who had appeared in her room.  We talked about her life and treatment, and she asked about my life, my schooling, my family, and whether I had a boyfriend.  Knowing it would be therapeutic for her to hear about someone else, I gave her a very brief sketch of my life.  She apologized over and over for crying, and I told her that her tears were perfectly acceptable, and that she was doing the right thing by honoring her emotions.  She worried aloud that she was not handling her situation well, and I told her that she was doing exactly what she needed to be doing: crying, talking about it, praying, asking questions.  Her strength showed through her vulnerability.  She asked again if I should be elsewhere, and I told her that I did not.  She asked if I was going to talk about her in post- conference, and I said that I would only say anything if she wanted me to do so.  She said I could tell my instructor and peers that I had helped someone. 

            While I have puzzled over this interaction in my mind, wondering if I should have said something different, I know I did the best I could at the time, and I was fully present to her, which was precisely what was needed.  This is why I am here.  I help people.     

In awe and wonder,

Caroline

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Han pasado trece semanas de la escuela de enfermería y he tenido tres semanas de experiencias clínicas en el hospital.  No creo que yo podría ser mas feliz en el 90% de mi vida que me encanta.  El otro 10%?  Son los días malos, el estrés, las noches que paso estudiando.

            Cada semana escribo un ensayo de reflexión como parte de mi clase de experiencias clínicas.  Aquí esta mi ensayo de la duodécima semana.

            Para mi, el momento mas importante de esta semana fue una interacción con una paciente.  Estaba haciendo inspecciones de los catéteres intravenosos de los pacientes en mi unidad y entré en un cuarto de una paciente con el cáncer.  Se me introduje, yo comprobé su catéter intravenoso, y después la pregunté como se sentía.  La mujer, su cabeza calva apenas afuera de la ropa de su cama, empezó a llorar.  Ella me dijo que estaba emocional, que era su ultima día de quimioterapia para tratar a su leucemia, y que su familia pequeña vivía lejos del hospital y no podía estar allá con ella en ese día.  Estaba preparándose para un trasplante de médula ósea y era muy agradecida para ser una paciente en Vanderbilt para recibir tratamiento, pero estar lejos de su familia era muy difícil.  Me puse en cuclillas por su cama y la pregunté decirme como ella estaba sintiendo.  Sus sentimientos de impotencia, preocupación, e inquietud la salieron a borbotones con sus lágrimas.  La pregunté si yo podía tomarla de la mano.  Ella insistió que tuve que estar en un otro lugar, y le dije que ella era mi prioridad en este momento, y que tenía todo el tiempo que ella necesitaba.  Me preguntó si yo oraría con ella, yo le dije que si, y ella rezó para la fuerza para sobrevivir, para la curación de su cáncer, y además para mi, la estudiante de enfermería que había aparecido en su cuarto, que Dios me bendiga.  Hablamos de su vida y el tratamiento para su cáncer, y ella me preguntó de mi vida, mi educación en Vanderbilt, mi familia y si tenía un novio.  Yo sabía que sería terapéutico para ella para saber de la vida de otra persona, y le dije un resumen breve de mi vida corriente.  Ella mi pidió muchas disculpas por llorando y le dije que sus lagrimas estaban perfectamente aceptable y que ella estaba en lo cierto para honrar a sus emociones.  Le preocupaba que ella no estaba tratando con su tratamiento en el buen sentido, y le dije que ella estaba haciendo lo que necesitaba—llorar, rezar, hablar de sus sentimientos, preguntarles a sus médicos sobre su tratamiento.  Su pujanza mostraba por su vulnerabilidad.  Me preguntó otra vez si yo no tenía que estar en otra parte, y yo le dije que no, estuve en el lugar correcto.  Me preguntó si yo hablaría de ella en mi reunión después de mi experiencia clínica, y le dije que yo solamente hablaría de ella si ella quería.  Me dijo que yo podría decirles a mi maestra y a mis compañeras de clase que había ayudado a una paciente con cáncer. 

            He pensado en esta interacción por unas horas, preocupándome si debería decir algo mas o algo diferente, pero yo sé que hice lo mejor que pude en esa situación.  Yo estuve totalmente presente en ese momento, y mi presencia total fue lo que la paciente mas necesitaba.  Por esa razón—ser presente—estoy aquí.  Para ayudar a otra gente.

Con admiración y maravilla,

Carolina             

On the Lived Experience of a Loved Life (La Experiencia Vivida de una Vida Querida)

I love this life. I find myself saying it out loud at least twice a week.  The fortune I have to be able to study what I want, what I love, in this time and place.  I am constantly reminded that I am in the right place, doing the right thing.

Classes are going well.  The didactic portion has slowly but surely evolved to present new material, which is refreshing.  It is a chance for me to integrate what I have learned through my own life and previous academic study with new information and skill sets.  I get to go to the hospital once a week to get my feet wet before clinicals start.  We have been assessing patients’ respiratory and cardiovascular function, as well as taking vital signs, and really learning to interact with people in a medical setting.  It is the highlight of my week.  The ability to go in, speak with a patient, and perform relatively basic tasks like bathing and blood pressure is an amazing experience that I would not trade for anything else.

I have also developed wonderful friendships: the intensity of this program lends itself to establishing deep relationships in short amounts of time.  It is nice to have comrades in arms who understand exactly what I am going through and are willing to study, eat, and decompress together.

My apartment is also coming together nicely.  I finally have living room furniture, a loveseat and an armchair that is perfect for reading.  It feels like home!

Although this is a brief update, be assured that I am healthy and well occupied.  I am enjoying this experience to the fullest.  Sending much love,

                                                Caroline

 ___________________________________________________________________________

Yo quiero esta vida.  Me encuentro diciéndolo por lo menos dos veces a semana.  Estoy muy afortunada para el poder de estudiar lo que quiero, lo que me fascina, aquí y ahora.  Me doy cuenta constantemente de que estoy en el lugar correcto al tiempo perfecto.

Mis clases están muy bien.  La parte didáctica ha evolucionado a presentar información nueva, por lo cual estoy agradecido.  Es una oportunidad de integrar lo que sabia de mi vida y de mis estudios previos con nuevo material y nuevas habilidades.  Una vez cada semana voy al hospital para acostumbrarme antes del principio de mis experiencias clínicas.  Con mi grupo, hago evaluaciones de los sistemas cardiovascular y respiratorio, tomo la presión arterial, y aprendo como interactuar con clientes en un entorno médico.  Es la mejor parte de cada semana: la capacidad y el privilegio de hablar con un paciente, y hacer tareas básicas como bañar un cliente y tomar la presión de sangre, es una experiencia maravillosa que yo no cambiaría por nada.     

También he conocido a gente muy amable: con este programa intensivo se presta para establecer amistades profundas en cortos períodos de tiempo.  Me gusta mucho tener amigos con quienes comparto una parte tan grande de mi vida, y con quienes estudio, como, y descomprimo. 

Mi departamento esta muy cómodo y me siento en casa.  Al final tengo un sillón, una silla y unas lámparas que me dan un sentimiento de comodidad. 

Aunque este mensaje es muy corto, favor de asegurarse que de estoy feliz y muy bien ocupada.  Estoy disfrutando de estas experiencias al máximo.  Les mando mucho amor.

                                                                                    Sinceramente,

                                                                                    Carolina

Two weeks in (Despues de dos semanas)

Attention: photo album link in last post is now actually enabled so you can see the pictures.  

Atencion: el enlace de mi album de fotos en el ensayo ultimo ahorita esta funcionado para que puedan ver mis fotos.

(written 20 August 2011)

Nothing has changed and everything has changed.

I am still the same person; in fact, I am more of myself than I have ever been.  The joy and peace that have blessed me since I made the decision to apply to this program have only amplified in the last two weeks as I truly begin to live my dream.  I eat the same food, sleep the same rest-full, dream-filled sleep, and use the same laundry soap.   

But my surroundings have changed: the physical location, the people around me, the concepts that float above my head.  My wardrobe has changed: my navy blue scrubs, white lab coat, and white shoes wait patiently in my closet for the first day of lab, and eventually my first day in the hospital.  My language has changed: I babble about the reading for HEHI and Pharm, and discuss the logistics of making my way from the parking garage to the nursing school via the medical center’s underground tunnels. 

Let me tell you about the new and continuing aspects of my life.  They fall into a couple major categories: home, school, and church.

Home: I have a beautiful, third-floor corner apartment, meaning that I share one wall with a neighbor.  The complex is wooded, with a couple of lakes and several pools, and it is a lovely place to return to after a day at school.  The furniture and kitchen supplies I received from a family friend were perfect for the space and my needs—I have two bookcases, three chairs, a kitchen table, a lamp, and a nightstand, as well as more Tupperware than I will ever need, silverware, pots and pans, and more.  I bought myself a mattress, which was delivered a week ago, and a loveseat and chair, which will be delivered soon.  I feel truly at home, especially with pictures of loved ones on my bedroom wall.  Having my own space is beyond blissful: I have a sanctuary here, in which I can study, eat, sleep, clean, and entertain when I want.

Thanks to the generosity of my parents, I am driving a brand-new Corolla, which has been named Theodore.  We have covered the majority of the territory south of the river that runs through downtown Nashville, and he is an excellent companion.

Church: I have started attending services at Christ Cathedral downtown.  I went to a noon Eucharist the week I arrived, and in kneeling at the altar to receive the Eucharist itself, I was suddenly and awe-fully aware of the presence of my maternal grandmother kneeling with me.  It is a rare gift to be blessed with the sensation of her presence.  It was a reinforcement of the right-ness of my move, my program, and my attendance of the noon Eucharist service.  I knew I had to return to Christ Cathedral that Sunday, which I did.  I was reminded how church-going the people in the South are—I think the attendance on a Sunday in August at Christ Cathedral was the same as or greater than the attendance at my home parish on Easter.  Blazers, ties, and skirts were the order of the day, and I only saw one pair of jeans.  The service itself was beautiful and full of the rituals that mark a High Church service.  During the offertory, as I sat in my pew, I was surrounded by the presence of both of my maternal grandparents, a sensation that has never happened before.  Through my tears, I thanked the divine work that has gone to great lengths to make sure I know that I am in exactly the right place at exactly the right time.

I fully intend to take advantage of the numerous worship opportunities at Christ Cathedral as they fit into my busy schedule, as well as the multifaith community in Nashville that organizes regular Taize services.

School: I will be busy!  Really busy!  Orientation was wonderful, and another moment in which I was reminded that I am in the right place, doing the right thing.  My pre-specialty class is made of 156 people from 48 states who range from Vanderbilt seniors in a special program to students with Masters and Doctoral degrees.  I have met many talented and friendly people, and it is nice to start school on Monday with acquaintances already established. 

I will be taking five courses this semester: Foundations of Professional Nursing, which will set the scene for making the transition to the nursing profession; Human Experience of Health and Illness, which is (very basically) a pathophysiology class; Population-Based Healthcare, which examines community trends and epidemiology; Basic Pharmacology, which will begin covering the extensive catalogue of drugs used in healthcare; and Fundamentals of Clinical Practice, which is principally a lab and clinical course—I will learn skills like taking blood pressure, listening for different heart sounds, and starting IVs, and apply them in the hospital setting under faculty guidance.  My clinical rotation this semester will be on one of the inpatient medical floors at Vanderbilt Medical Center.  Two of my classes have lecture and seminar components, and the seminars will be an opportunity for discussion with smaller groups of my colleagues, guided by a professor.

In closing, I wish I could assure you that I will be in regular contact by email and through this blog, but I cannot, especially until I know how my schedule will look for the semester.  Be assured that no news is good news where I am concerned, and please don’t hesitate to call or email me (though email is preferred), knowing that I may be slow to respond.

Much love from Nashville.

(escrito el 20 de agosto de 2011)

Nada ha cambiado y todo ha cambiado.

Yo soy la misma persona, además, me siento mas como yo que nunca.  La alegría y la paz que he tenido desde que decidí aplicar a este programa han solamente crecido durante las dos semanas pasadas porque ahorita estoy viviendo mis sueños.  Como la misma comida, duermo el mismo sueño llenado de sueños y muy refrescante y hasta uso el mismo jabón de lavar. 

Pero mis alrededores han cambiado: mi ubicación física, la gente alrededor de mi, las ideas que vuelan en mi mente.  También ha cambiado mi ropa: tengo ropa de enfermera de color azul oscura, una bata de laboratorio y un par de zapatos blancos que me esperan con paciencia para mi primer día de ejercicios laboratorios y, eventualmente, mi primer día en el hospital.  Mis palabras han cambiado: ahora hablo de la tarea para mis clases HEHI y Pharm y discuto la logística de caminar desde mi plaza de aparcamiento hasta la escuela de enfermería por los túneles debajo del centro medico de Vanderbilt.

Déjenme decirles de mi vida nueva, en tres categorías: el hogar, la iglesia y la escuela.

Mi hogar: tengo un departamento bonito en el segundo piso del edificio, en la esquina y por eso, solo tengo una pared compartida con un vecino.  Mi complejo de apartamentos también es muy bonito: hay muchos arboles, unos laguitos y tres piscinas—es un muy buen lugar para regresar después de un día en la escuela.  Los muebles y los aparatos de cocina que recibi de la amiga de mi familia son perfectos para el espacio.  Tengo dos estantes, tres sillas, una lámpara, una mesa pequeña, un comedor, cajitas plásticas para guardar comida en el refrigerador bastante para una familia de cuatro, cubiertos, ollas y sartenes y mas.  He comprado un colchón, que fue entregado la semana pasada, y una silla y un sillón para la sala que no han sido entregados hasta ahora.  Me siento verdaderamente en casa, especialmente con fotos de mi familia y mis amigos en la pared de mi dormitorio.  Tener mi proprio espacio, mi propio hogar, me hace sentir muy feliz: tengo un asilo donde puedo comer, estudiar, dormir, limpiar y entretener cuando quiero. 

Gracias a la generosidad grande de mis padres, estoy manejando un nuevo coche, un Toyota Corolla llamado Teodoro (Theodore en ingles).  Hemos manejado por la mayoría de la área de Nashville al sur del rio que corre por el centro de la ciudad, y el es un buen compañero. 

Iglesia: He empezado a asistir a servicios a la iglesia Christ Church, la catedral de Nashville.  Fui a un servicio de la eucaristía en la semana que llegué a Nashville, y cuando me arrodillé al altar, de repente sentí la presencia espiritual de mi abuela materna.  Es un regalo muy maravilloso tener el sentido de mi abuela—me reforzó que estoy acertada en moverme a Nashville, a empezar mi programa de estudios y a asistir el servicio de la eucaristía. Yo sabia que tuve que regresar a la catedral para el servicio dominguero—y yo lo hice.  Me recordé que la gente que vive en el Sur de mi país van a la iglesia con mucha mas frecuencia que la gente en el Noroeste.  Creo que tanta gente asistió a la iglesia el domingo pasado como gente asistió al servicio de la Pascua en mi iglesia en Tacoma.  Todos los asistentes se llevaron ropa fina y yo solo vi un par de jeans.  El servicio mismo fue muy bonito, llenado de los rituales del estilo alto de la iglesia Anglicana.  Durante el servicio, estuve sentada en mi silla cuando sentí las presencias espirituales de los dos de mis abuelos maternos, una sensación que nunca he tenido antes.  Llorando, yo di mis gracias al Dios que me ha dado un regalo tan maravilloso que me afirmó que estoy en el lugar correcto al tiempo correcto.

Voy a asistir a los programas varios a la catedral de Nashville cuando tiempo durante mis estudios, y también quiero asistir a los servicios de Taize que la comunidad ecuménica de Nashville me ofrece.

Escuela: ¡Yo seré muy buen ocupada!  La orientación para el programa fue muy bien, un momento en que me recordé que estoy en el lugar correcto al tiempo correcto.  Mi clase tiene 156 gente de 48 de los 50 estados.  Somos un grupo muy diverso: algunos de mis compañeros son en su último año en la Universidad de Vanderbilt quienes van a obtener sus licenciados en un programa especial, y otros tienen sus maestrías en otros sujetos.  He conocido gente amable e inteligente y será muy lindo empezar mis estudios con unos amigos.

Tomaré cinco clases este semestre: Cimientos de la Enfermería Profesional, que me prepará hacer la transición a enfermería; La Experiencia Humana de la Salud y la Enfermedad, una clase básicamente de fisiopatología; El Cuidad de la Salud de Poblaciones, que va a examinar epidemiologia y las tendencias de la salud comunitaria; mi primera clase de farmacología, sobre los medicamentos; y Los Fundamentos de Practica Clínico, que es un curso de ejercicios de laboratorio y preparación para mis experiencias en el hospital.  En este ultimo curso, aprenderé como tomar la presión de sangre, escuchar para los sonidos del corazón y empezar las líneas intravenosas y como aplicar mis habilidades en el hospital, con la ayuda de mi profesor.  Mi experiencia clínico este semestre seré en una de las salas medicas en el hospital de la Universidad de Vanderbilt.  Dos de mis clases tienen componentes de conferencia y seminario, y los seminarios serian una oportunidad de hablar con un grupo pequeño de mis compañeros y un profesor.

Deseo decirles que yo voy a ser capaz de mantener en contacto con todos ustedes por correo electrónico y por este blog, pero no lo puedo, especialmente porque todavía mi horario no está definido.  Favor de asegurarles que si no se ponga en contacto, estoy muy bien contenta y muy ocupada.  Además, siempre me pueden contactar por correo electrónico, y aunque no les prometo que responderé rápidamente, yo les responderé. 

¡Les mando mucho amor desde Nashville!

First steps (Primeros pasos)

(written 5 August 2011)
I am writing to you from the skies over the Midwest as my dad and I fly to Nashville.  He will be in town with me for a couple of days to help me buy a car and move in to my apartment.  I will then have about ten days to get settled, adjust to the weather, and ready myself for the beginning of school.  Here are the nitty-gritty details so far (VUSN: Vanderbilt Nursing School, VDS: Vanderbilt Divinity School):

I will have three days of orientation on August 17^th, 18^th, and 19^th, and then I will start school on August 22^nd.  From the information that VUSN has sent, I will have class and lab from 8am to 5pm five days a week for the first six weeks, and then I will start my clinical rotations.  On that schedule, I will have class and lab three days a week, followed by either a twelve-hour clinical or an eight-hour clinical and a four-hour rotation the next day.

This program will continue for three semesters.  In twelve months, I will be eligible to take the NCLEX, the Registered Nurse licensing exam.  At the same time (fall 2012), I will begin my first year at the Divinity School.  Fall 2013 will bring the second year of nursing school, during which I will complete three semesters of specialty work to finish my MSN.  In the fall of 2014, I will take the boards to be certified as a nurse practitioner as I start my second year of divinity school, which will be followed in succession by my third and final year at VDS.  This brings us to the big party in May 2016 where I will be hooded twice.  Save the date!

Speaking of parties, I had a wonderful going-away party in late July that was attended by family, friends, colleagues, and mentors from all parts of my life in Seattle.  It was fun to watch people from church chat with former employers, who in turn met my parents and my friends from college.  I was amazed at how many people came to show their support, and honored with a blessing from my priest to send me forth into my new adventure. 

Leaving the Seattle area is a mixed bag of emotions for me.  I have been telling people for weeks that I am very excited to go to Nashville, but I am very sad to leave the Pacific Northwest—an enigmatic position, to be sure.  On one hand, I am filled with joy and excitement at the possibilities that await me in Nashville and the magical feeling of right-ness that study at Vanderbilt stirs in my soul.  On the other, however, I am grieving the loss of proximity to my parents, brother, close friends, community of faith, and mentors in Seattle and Tacoma.  I have no intention to cutting ties to my village and base of support in Washington State, just as I have every intention of meeting new people and building new relationships in Nashville. 

These experiences and feelings remind me of my move to Seattle from Tulsa in 2005.  I realized then, and I am remembering now, that the word “home” and the significance of it change over a lifetime.  Many physical locations in my life are “home” to me—Tulsa, OK, where I grew up; Henderson, KY, where my mother was born and we visited my great aunt Dorothy; Puebla, Mexico, where I studied abroad; Seattle University, where I attended college; Tacoma, WA, where I lived with my parents, worked, volunteered, and went to church and school.  I now add a new location to that physical location of “home,” as well as the task of settling myself emotionally and mentally into my new home.  However, the concept of home extends beyond a physical location. 

Laced into the location itself are memories and relationships of a life lived richly with good companions, and for me, these emotional ties are what draw me back to the many physical homes I have.  Visiting my middle and high schools, going to church, volunteering, and seeing friends and family are among the many experiences that give me the feeling of being home.  One of the many exciting things about living in Nashville is that I will be just over three hundred miles from my best friend in St. Louis, and six hundred miles from family in Tulsa and Oklahoma City.  If I am in need of an escape, have a short break or long weekend, I will be able to “go home” to many people I have not had the opportunity to visit frequently in the last six years.  I love my many homes and look forward to creating a good space for myself in Nashville.

Primeros pasos (escrito el 5 de agosto del 2011)

Les estoy escribiendo desde el avión que me esta llevando a Nashville con mi padre.  El me va a acompañar por cuatro días para asistirme en comprar un coche y moverme a mi departamento.  Yo tendré diez días, mas o menos, para ajustar al tiempo, hacerme cómoda en mi departamento y prepararme para empezar mis estudios.  Aquí les explico las detalles de mi vida nueva (VUSN: la Escuela de Enfermería de la Universidad de Vanderbilt, VDS: la Escuela de Teología de Vanderbilt):

Los días 17, 18 y 19 de agosto tendré tres días de orientación para la escuela de enfermería y mis clases comenzaran el 22 de agosto.  VUSN me ha dicho que tendré clases y tiempos en el laboratorio cinco días de la semana desde las ocho de la mañana hasta las cinco de la tarde por los primeros seis semanas.  Después, tendré clases y ejercicios en un laboratorio  tres días de la semana y hare experiencias clínicos por turnos rotatorios por doce horas o un de ocho y un de cuatro horas el día siguiente. 

Este programa continuara por tres semestres y en doce meses estaré elegible para tomar el examen para obtener una licencia de una enfermera certificada.  Al mismo tiempo, en el otoño del 2012, empezaré mi primer año de estudios en la VDS.  En el otoño del 2013 empezaré tres semestres de estudios para cumplir mi maestría de enfermería, y en el otoño del 2014 tomare el examen para obtener mi certificación para ser una enfermera de practica avanzada (nurse practitioner).  En el otoño del 2014 también empezaré el segundo ano de estudias en la VDS y cumpliré mis estudios en mayo del 2016, cuando me darán dos capuchas académicas.  ¡Favor de recordar la fecha—será una fiesta grande!

Tuve una fiesta de despedida muy maravillosa al fin de julio.  Familia, amigos, colegas y mentores vinieron desde todas partes de mi vida en Seattle.  Me divertí mucho ver mis padres hablando con amigos de la universidad, quienes charlaron con mis empresarios y la gente con quien asisto a mi iglesia.  La cura de mi iglesia me hizo una bendición para mandarme con la gracia de Dios a Nashville. Estuve emocionada ver que tanta gente vino para celebrar este nuevo capitulo de mi vida conmigo. 

Moverme de Seattle tiene muchas emociones diferentes para mi.  Por unas semana he dicho que estoy muy entusiasmada irme a Nashville pero estoy muy triste para dejar a Seattle.  Es una posición muy dura: estoy muy alegre y emocionada para gozarme de las posibilidades que me esperan en Nashville y el sentimiento mágico de estudiar en Vanderbilt que siento en mi alma.  Pero a la misma vez, estoy entristecida para perder la proximidad a mis padres, mi hermano, mis amigos buenos, mi iglesia y mis mentores en Seattle y en Tacoma.  No voy a perder mis relaciones con mi pueblo y mi base de apoyo en el estado de Washington, tanto como voy a construir nuevas relaciones en Nashville.

Estas experiencias y emociones me recuerda del proceso de moverme de Tulsa a Seattle en el 2005.  Me dio cuenta en el 2005, y me estoy rememorando, que la sensación y la significancia de sentirse en casa cambiaran durante la vida.  Tengo muchas ubicaciones físicas que evocan el sentido de estar en casa—Tulsa, OK, donde crecí; Henderson, KY, donde mi mama nació y donde fuimos a visitar a mi tía abuela; Puebla, México, donde estuve una estudiante de intercambios; la Universidad de Seattle, donde estudie; Tacoma, WA, donde viví con mis padres, trabaje, hice voluntarias, estudie y asistí a la iglesia.  Ahora añado una ubicación mas a mi sentimiento de estar en casa y también el trabajo de hacerme cómoda, emocionalmente y mentalmente, en mi nueva ciudad.  Pero el sentimiento tiene mas de una ubicación física. 

Adheridas con una ubicación están las memorias y las relaciones de una vida rica con amigos buenos, y para mi, estas conexiones son las que me retiran a las ubicaciones donde me siento en casa.  Visitar a mis escuelas, ir a la iglesia, hacer voluntarias y visitar a mis amigos y mi familia son unas de las muchas experiencias que me dan el sentimiento de estar en casa.  Una de las partes mas emocionantes de vivir en Nashville es la proximidad a mi familia en Tulsa, OK, y a mi mejor amiga en St. Louis, MO.  Si necesito irme de Nashville o tengo un receso corto o un fin de semana largo, yo tendré la oportunidad de irme “a casa” a mucha gente quien no he tenido el tiempo para ver durante los seis años pasados.  Las quiero mis muchas casas y estoy muy animada para establecer una casa muy buena en Nashville.