Nurse Sara, NP

I wanted to give ya’ll a sneak peek of our living room. 

We’ve been slowly working on our living room since we moved in early summer. We’re now living in a beautiful townhome in the perfect neighborhood. Although still renting, we see ourselves settling here for a little while. We’re considering buying in a few years, but when that time comes we’re sadly going to be moving further out of the city as there are more important things to consider, like school districts over proximity to bars.  We want to make the most of our last few years in the city, and that starts with making our little house the perfect space for relaxing days, entertaining, and hosting overnight guests.

I LOVE entertaining but haven’t had much of the opportunity to do that in recent years --  we’re a few hours flight away from most of our friends and family, and we did not have the space for overnight guests. More space was super important to us when house hunting, and we’re excited to now have nearly 1900 sq feet (which is A LOT for city living).

The decorating process was initially very rushed -- we had many friends planning short weekends to visit, and were planning to host our families for thanksgiving. Then, COVID hit. While I am so so disappointed that we aren’t getting to see our loved ones, it’s allowed us to take our time getting things together.

It has especially allowed time for bargain hunting -- because this is not our forever home we did not want to spend a fortune decorating it. Most of our decor is from Homegoods, with a few things from World Market, At Home, Target, and Nebraska Furniture Mart. I go to these stores almost every weekend to browse new inventory.

I’ve been able to identify specific stores in certain neighborhoods that have what I’m looking for -- if I am searching for high quality art, there a specific Homegoods I’d go to (where I scored the art behind our couch ). I stopped by the Homegoods near my hair salon and was taken aback by how many eclectic modern finds they had -- that’s where I scored the pillows and most of the table decor. There are a few global treats mixed in as well -- I have beautiful coasters that I purchased in Barcelona, as well as black rocks I picked up from a beach along the Mediterranean sea. These memorable pieces go perfectly with our living room style.

Honestly It’s taken a long time to find a blend of our two styles -- outside of a mutual love for the color gray, my husband skews towards eclectic modern and my style is more mid century modern boho. But I love the final product. There are a few more tweaks, and then our living room will be complete.

 A friend halfway through NP school called me in a frenzy this weekend. The first question they expressed was, “When do I get to the good stuff? Learning about diseases and illness and medicine? I am halfway through the program, and theres so much more I need to know.  Am I making the right choice? Should I get a post-bacc and go into medicine instead?”. 

As I listened, they continued on about their desire for more intense sciences, a deeper understanding of pathophysiology, more exposure to an array of illness. My answer to them? 

Stop the program. Start the prerequisites. Apply to medical school. Medicine was the dream. Being a Nurse Practitioner may not satisfy that.

Their next question, “Do you love your job? You seem happy. Are you happy?” My answer?

Yes, of course I am happy. I wanted to be a Palliative Care Nurse Practitioner, and here I am.

I know this is a controversial topic. This is based on my experience having trained at the #1 nursing program in my speciality.

One of my NP professors said to me, “Physicians are trained to practice medicine. Nurses are trained to practice nursing.” I liken the nurse practitioner experience to an intersection of social sciences and the medical model.

NP school trains you to assess patients with a holistic gaze, with intervention focusing on the person and their disease experience first while considering the disease itself.  This is a varied approach from the illness focused medical model. Which is better? The answer is — you can’t compare! These are two different forms of practice, and each meets a patient’s need in different ways. BOTH approaches are needed to provide adequate care to our patients in this era of healthcare.

I will be honest when I say that my first year as a palliative care NP, I felt like an internal medicine resident in terms of scientific understanding, but ahead of some of the attendings in terms of holistic understanding. There was so much I did not know scientifically, but the basic skills all nurses have (thinking critically & learning quickly!) helped my medical knowledge increase exponentially. The excellent attendings I work with were happy to help me learn, and I’ve gained so much insight into disease processes in the worlds of pulmonary critical care, hematology, cardiology, etc. etc. etc. seeing consults all over the hospital. Everyday I learn something new.

I work on a team equally divided between NPs and physicians. We each respect our skill sets and recognize the value one another brings to the team. There are consults I pull my physician colleague into where I believe a strong scientific approach is needed, and there are consults that they pull me into where they believe a strong holistic approach is needed. We help each other in the opposite ways as well, it’s all about a second set of eyes with a different perspective. We do not cut each other down, attack each other’s form of schooling, or critique each other’s practices. We practice independently together. No one is beneath another because we are in our own lanes.

If you want to be a nurse practitioner, be a nurse practitioner. You will learn to be a phenomenal clinician, and to provide enriching care to the lives of your patients. If your dream is to be a physician, being a nurse practitioner may not satisfy you. Do not go to NP school expecting to learn how to become a physician. And do not expect to have learned everything you need to know by the end of your training.

I have a lot of mixed feelings working in a hospital that is in the heart of the second wave (or, the true first wave). There is an article about my hospital making its way around social media. It’s a strange feeling seeing the faces of my my friends and colleagues — photos from this article — being shared on the timelines of those from various stages of my life, high School, college, prior jobs, etc. My two worlds are meshing in an uncomfortable way, and I’m not sure if I should acknowledge it, or look away.

As a black woman, I’ve often responded to pressures to be everything to everyone, and try my hardest not to let anyone down. I’ve relied on routine lists to make that happen. In quarantine, I’ve subconsciously put even firmer systems in place that would keep me from allowing the stress of these uncertain times slow me down. For the first few weeks I found myself trying to stick with my same routines —  Giving 100% each and every moment at work, exercising daily at home or going for long runs, coordinating regular zoom sessions with friends, staying up to date with the news so I could inform my family, and of course squeezing in time to be a wife.

This is borderline unmanageable on the day to day, and I quickly realized in quarantine it was just unsustainable. Work has been DIFFERENT, the volume has increased and the needs are so much more. It does not help that many of those getting seriously ill are brown and black folk like me.  Add that to all of the planning, coordinating, organizing trying to maintain the perfect schedule — I could not maintain this added load even though it brought me so much joy. The schedule slipped away from me, I became more of a recluse as a result. I felt guilty for not keeping up my level of enthusiasm from the first few weeks, and beat myself up for it.

Gradually, I slept more, snacked too much, and plopped on the couch for an hours long nap after work as the days bled together. Soon, I began having more aches and pains to the point it was painful in my hips and back to even sit upright. I was so fatigued that I stopped walking Duke. I was either missing most of my meals, or eating until I was about to burst. My husband snapped me out the spiral— not only was I being a human lump, I was seriously losing wife points.

My spark to change was inspired by revising my New Years resolution: To be more intentional with my time, and to rediscover my hobbies. I’ve decided change perspective on my New Years resolution, and focus on using it towards healing. 

Here’s my healing list:

I’ve stopped working out — I KNOW, that’s a big step for me as someone who was religious in Orangetheory twice a week and lifting weights 2-3 other days. I’ve focused on regular visits to the chiropractor. My first adjustment was crazy, I had no idea my body was so out of wack! I know there is conflicting research about chiropractic care, but I love mine because he is also a nurse practitioner, so he is able to navigate the medical side as well. The TENS (transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation) treatments are the best. I nearly have my full range of motion back. 

I’ve started watching trash TV — I’ve realized I need more time to detach. I generally try to watch intellectually stimulating shows or documentaries, and listening to podcasts about current events or analyzing life situations. I realized that all this was doing was giving me more mental work. Curling up to a show like ‘Love Is Blind’ was a guaranteed way to take my mind off of things for a few hours. 

I’ve allowed myself to snack — I’ve struggled with food for most of my life, and I’ve also given myself permission to accept that this tendency is going to resurface in times of stress.  At first I would beat myself up for not adhering to my general healthy diet. By giving myself permission to cheat, I’ve been able to normalize snacking. I don’t feel the need to rush through snack before the guilt hits, and because of this have had an easier time stopping when satisfied. 

I’ve cancelled my zoom happy hours— To be honest, I really miss my girlfriends’ weekly zoom happy hours from early quarantine (friends, if you’re reading this, call me!). But as work has picked up and the days have become very long, making time for these happy hours took away the time and attention I could give to my mini-family. My marriage was FEELING it. I realized that the energy I was putting into these hangouts really needed to be diverted to my husband, and this was a difficult conclusion to come to. Of course, I still need to be there for my girls. I’ve started scheduling texting times, usually in the mornings or weekend afternoons, where I can check in. I’ve also started calling friends while doing other tasks, usually driving home or putting away laundry. It’s not the perfect solution, but it allows me to still be there and nurture these friendships in an era where my time is very limited.

I’ve started leaving work early — and by early, I mean on time. Y’all know the feeling. Early in quarantine, my manager gave us the ability to work from home up to 3 times a week. Since then, I’ve worked from home a whopping 5 days. I’ve always found a way to convince myself for come in. But as restrictions have mounted (we are now required to wear full face shield in addition to masking), I’ve realized that my safety needs to come first. I am working on modifying my schedule to come in early and round on my patients, going home to complete my charts in an effort to minimize hospital exposure. I have also been better about working from home at least once a week.

I’ve stopped watching the news — this one speaks for itself. I am exposed to enough trauma, no need to let it into my home as well.

I’ve started writing again — this one also speaks for itself! I realized that my dream of being a writer can flourish during quarantine. I am committing to writing something — anything —  daily. Now that I have secured a career I love, I am working on chasing the dream I’ve always desired! 

I’ve stopped trying to do it all —  At work and in my personal life, I am always the first to volunteer, whether it be my thoughts to the conversation, my time to creating a project or program, or my dissent on behalf of others. My mama will tell you I am VERY opinionated. As a black woman, it takes a lot of energy not to look angry and black, annoyed and black, loud and black, especially when voicing opposition in the workplace. I don’t always do it right, but I definitely always expend a lot of energy trying to. Lately, I’ve just stopped. I’ve started sitting silently, ignoring the calls for volunteers even though I can feel the eyes on me. I’ve stopped going out of my way to be super helpful. I’ve redirected the energy I use to go above and beyond with others inward. Of course, I’m being cordial, cooperative, and a team player as always. I just can’t be anymore than that right now, and I’ve given myself permission to be okay with that. I’ve also given myself permission to keep my opinions to myself (which I’m sure many in my life are happy about LOL). Taking this step back has had a monumental impact on my happiness at work in these times where there is very little I can control. One day I’ll have my hands back in all of those pots, but for now I’m riding in the back seat.

What is your healing list? Comment below!

Welcome to part two of my series about my journey to becoming a Nurse Practitioner. See Part 1before reading. Like all good stories, my journey has many twists and turns. I’m hoping by sharing I can help some of you realize that you are in fact capable, and can make it to goals you’ve never even imagined.

I want to preface this by saying that the beauty of nursing is in its many forms. The content of this post is not to disparage any nursing role. It serves to provide insight into what nursing means to me, and to help other nurses out there who do not fit at the bedside. The opportunities are endless for us, we just have to discover our space.

I often found myself going through the motions in college. Science classes were just as blah as they were in high school, and I did not love learning about nursing theory. Care plans, skills testing, nursing diagnoses… after a while I could not stand it. While I did well in most of my classes, the passion was just not there.

I was drawn to humanities. Enthralled by courses on bioethics, sexuality, and socioeconomic influences in behavior, I found myself staying late debating topics in my elective courses, while running out of my nursing courses as soon as I could. I’d look longingly at the health and society majors, wishing I could be in their shoes. Here I was learning how to make a bed and wash my hands… I felt like I had a seat at the wrong table.

Welcome to part one of my series about my journey to becoming a Nurse Practitioner. Like all good stories, my journey has many twists and turns. I’m hoping by sharing I can help some of you realize that you are in fact capable, and can make it to goals you’ve never even imagined.

Why Nursing?

This is a question I get asked surprisingly often, and is the natural start for this series. At work, compliments from patients are often followed with questions as to why I chose nursing over medicine. Today, I am not going to focus on how much this question offends me (as if nurses can’t be intelligent and highly motivated…), but instead share some insight.

Nurses make up the largest healthcare force in the United States, and while they most often work in the hospital setting, their knowledge can be applied across industries. With nursing my opportunities are endless… but it was not my first choice.

The answer to this question goes back to my childhood. Growing up, I used to pretend I had a doctor’s office in my room. I would make my siblings come upstairs to get examined. I would use my belts to get blood pressure checks, the belt buckle to give injections, and administer gummies and vitamins as remedy. My parents were team players, and would force my siblings play along as well. I loved helping people feel better, even if it was only my imagination.

There is something about the new year. Midnight rinses away any lingering feelings of failure or inadequacy that nestled in our corners as recent as the hour prior, and that space is replaced with resolutions of betterment and hopes for the year to come. Or so they say.

I’ve always viewed “new year, new me” with a cautious lens. Each year I feel a sense of dread come over me as the reality of the celebration would set in. I would often focus on my failures; failed tests, failed work situations, failed relationships, whatever failure suited the season of life I was in. I’d set larger than life goals in that minute, hoping to wake up in a few hours as someone without the unique set of flaws that I felt prohibited my success. But instead I’d wake up the same person I was yesterday, the only difference being remnants of glitter and alcohol in my being. So yeah. Outside of the festivities, the new year was not something I loved celebrating.

**From the old blog, but I love this post too much to delete. Enjoy! 

Yesterday was my father’s 69th birthday. I left his celebration glowing, rejuvenated from a lovely evening with family. I heard a voice as I fished my house keys from my jacket pocket.

“Hey baby, how are you doing?”