Category: #COVID-19

The Grim Reaper & A Nurse
#COVID-19 · Nursing

The Grim Reaper & A Nurse

lesbehonest20171 Comment

Contrary to my normal procrastination I bought tickets to a haunted attraction way back in the beginning of September. I was determined to get there. Last year I bought tickets and it got rained out. A few years before COVID we went on a night to something you couldn’t pre-buy tickets to, and the night we went it was closed. Then COVID.

Needless to say I was frantically stalking the weather all week, and very excited the night came with no rain in sight and no global illness causing mass lockdowns…we were good to go!

When we got there we had to wait for our turn to go through as they send people through in small groups. We were a group of four, my three friends and I, and while we are all in our mid-late 30’s, and tough as nails psych nurses and a therapist, of course none of us wanted to go first or last. Finally the therapist went first and the three nurses followed. I doth my hat to our therapist friend of course.

We screamed and held onto each others vests and coats in a train of four excited and terrified friends.

We came upon our first ghouls who spoke to us and instructed one of us to reach a hand into a bucket of water and pull out two syringes. One of us may have freaked out about touching syringes to the point that the grim reaper asked “Are you nurses?” in a growl, and we nodded “Yes, three nurses and a therapist,” and the grim reaper in his grim reaper voice bowed his head a bit and said, “Thank you for your service,” and the scary baby-doll with face paint reminiscent of Frankenstein agreed in her creepy baby doll voice, “Yes, thank you.”

And there we were. In a haunted house with a grim reaper and a creepy baby-doll tipping their heads to us in thanks.

They still made my friend grab the syringes.

And on went the show.

It was followed by another grim reaper who did not speak motioning me to push a button on a wall. Well I was pushing the damn button and nothing was happening. He made a down motion with his scythe(?) and I pushed down and it fell off the wall. He’s growling at me and I can almost hear him sighing at my stupidity and my three friends are a mixture of laughter and screaming each time he waves the scythe at me telling me to just push the button. And they are yelling at me “Just push the button” and I’m like duh I would if I could, but it’s dark and there’s grim reaper growling at me, I grab it and stick it back on the wall.

If you’ve not had a grim reaper shake his head at you in complete frustration and disbelief at how stupid you can be….it’s an experience.

As I stick it on the wall the thing lights up. Finally. I pushed the button somewhere. He lets us past and follows us, the whole time pointing his scythe at me. He did not need words. Even through a full coverage mask his message was clear. You are too stupid to live and I will end you.

My friends thought it was hysterical and then of course later we did get lost and the same grim reaper popped out and had to growl and herd us back on track.

It didn’t hit me until we got out though and we were back in the car. That moment with the first grim reaper and the ghoulish baby doll. It was surreal and kind and even though it broke the scary haunted house thrill for a moment to be brought so forcefully back to reality, it felt more authentic and more real than any of the hundreds of pizza parties the hospital I worked for thought were ‘good enough’ of a thanks.

What healthcare providers- not just nurses- psychotherapists, doctors, techs, etc. have been through from 2020 to present, is inexplicable to people outside of healthcare. It’s been constant chaos and tragedy and feeling invalidated and not good enough and underlying it a deep and true terror. Terror that we would catch an illness and spread it to our loved ones. Terror that our patients would die. Terror that going to work would lead to our deaths. And on top of that dealing with the irritability and anger that has permeated seemingly every human interaction. People are angry and they are taking it out on healthcare providers and practices.

So for a random grim reaper and haunted baby doll to acknowledge us in the throes of a terror inspiring activity- it felt so wrong and yet so right.

To the ghouls at Evidence of Evil- we had a great time, and you made three nurses and a therapist feel seen and appreciated. Thank-you.

#COVID-19

Catharsis Defined via Six.

lesbehonest2017Leave a comment

It’s hard to define catharsis. I remember learning about the term in a high school English class. I remember it was defined as “a release of emotion”. But it’s hard to truly understand it until you experience it. Part of what theater and the arts provides for me specifically are moments of catharsis in a space and through a medium that is outside of my daily norm.

Have you ever been moved to tears by a movie? That is catharsis. The movie caused a release of emotion.

And while movies can certainly provide a nice cathartic moment there is nothing, for me, quite like the theater.

I am lucky to live a short car ride from the train station which has an express train to Grand Central. About a month ago my friend and I bought second row tickets to Six. We hopped on the train this morning, made it through GCS, during which I heard a few New Yorker’s put a woman in her place for yelling at a child who tripped resulting in her having to stop short resulting in her yelling at said small child whose dad was clearly a tourist who just looked scared. My friend says people on the East coast are kind but not nice. I feel that in NYC more than anywhere else.

These three clear New Yorkers stepped in for the tourist Dad and son and yelled at the woman for yelling at a child for making a mistake. Then tsk tsk’d at her, and clucked over the child. While not smiling at all and seemingly sounding generally loud and scary but when they are on the side of good….it’s a sight to behold.

That all unfolded outside the bathrooms. Inside of which a random woman had started directing traffic into the open stalls because she was waiting for her sister “Who is taking forever”….from a further away stall “Well I’m sooooo sorry Dotty, you can wait out in the hall ya know?!” “Who needs the hall I’m directing people. Just do your business so we can leave!”

We then fast walked/ran to the theater, and came upon a Polish parade on 5th avenue which detoured us a couple blocks south back to 45th street from 47th. Side note- the Polish parade was still going 2 hours later on our way back…and we talked to some NYPD officers who also could not believe it was a 5 hour parade and it was running late because “it’s Polish” and “only a Polish parade would run for 5 hours on 5th avenue” per the police officer…

So we finally make it to the restaurant right next to the theater. We eat super fast. Then with nine minutes to show time we think we can go stroll in. Well we walked. And walked. To find the end of the line. When we started questioning if the line could really be that long a man heard us talking and was like, “Hey over here, you guys are with me right?” He was super nice. The people behind him hated us. But we totally cut the line. His wife showed up with diet cokes for them. And then we are being waved through security by a security guard and he’s saying “Single file, single file, ladies looking very pretty today” and tips his hat at us.

Then we see this epic show. I mean totally epic. Six. The six wives of Henry the VIII reclaiming their stories and changing history to “her”story. So it’s heavy right? Because two of his wives are beheaded. I mean. There’s that. They also were all teenagers. Awful. Multiple miscarriages etc. But they did an amazing job of blending humor into the story and engaging the audience, and there we were. Watching Jane Seymour (the 3rd wife of Henry VIII) sing a beautiful song and she hits these high notes that I can’t even describe. And the song is about being unshakeable and brave and courageous in the face of so many fears. “You can build me up, you can tear me down, You can try but I’m unbreakable, You can do your best, but I’ll stand the test You’ll find that I’m unshakeable. When the fire’s burned when the wind has blown, When the water’s dried you’ll still find stone.”

And it was then, that I felt my eyes well up. And I thought why am I about to cry? Couple reasons. I have post-COVID grief. I’m sad and pissed that we missed two years of the arts and trips and fun times with friends out in places with people and hearing a New Yorker berate some one, and being told we are pretty in a super sweet and innocent way. Running through streets, stumbling on parades, we missed that. We missed so much. I grieve all that I do not even know that I missed.

And in that moment I also was thinking of all the shit I’ve been through. Personally and professionally and, it’s kind of like in therapy where you’re walls crack, and you hear a song that just hits you right. And I felt so much, incredibly deeply in that moment, about what we’ve lost, what we still have, and everything I’ve been through and still am going through; and that my friends…is catharsis.

I loved the show. But I also loved the experience of going to NYC for the day without fear of death. Let me rephrase- now the only fear of death is from mass shootings, bombings, car accidents, subway stabbings, you know the normal NYC fears. Not death from a virus.

Now we just have the normal fears back.

Overall the entire day was perfect and I wouldn’t change a thing. Well maybe I wouldn’t have thrown away the cup my friend had bought me at the theater. It had red wine in it, and I didn’t want it to spill on my bag. It’s a nice bag. Really nice. And we were in the street. It was crazy. It was red wine! So I threw it out. She will never get over it. I’d change that moment yes. The rest is all good.

Parent’s Night Post-Covid
#COVID-19 · mom of boys

Parent’s Night Post-Covid

lesbehonest2017Leave a comment

I went to my kids parents night at their school. It was really cute and also weird… post-COVID. For one, I was inside my sons school. We were allowed inside at the very end of last school year, with masks. Tonight was a normal parents night though. No masks. Teachers. Desks. No social distancing. There is still a no food rule, which is fine, but it was just totally normal. In a super NOT normal way.

For two years normal became not socializing. Masks. Fear. Then we are all just supposed to bounce back. It was bizarre.

I sat in my sons desks. I had to go back and forth between two classrooms and two teachers doing the first grade presentations at the same time…which was fun. I recognized other parents, and said hi to them, and we talked about our kids. Without masks. Inside a building. In our kids classrooms.

When I was walking out, I had to park far away, and as I was walking to my car I passed, well almost everyone, but specifically two parents talking who I know- but it’s that kind of know when we are friends but new friends so it’s still kinda awkward or at least I’m still kind of awkward I also didn’t make friends for two years…pandemic…so I’m more awkward than normal…so there I am.

Walking toward my car and I actually think to myself- because they are talking- do I say hi? Do I wave? Do I pretend I don’t see them? Ugh! I can’t pretend I don’t see them. I have to walk within a foot of them. I say “hi guys,” as I approach, and keep walking. They say hi, how are you, and I answer and keep walking and they resume conversation, totally chill, and I’m like why was that so weird? Why did that make me so anxious? I literally just sat with both of them at a kids birthday party last weekend.

Oh yea. I haven’t had to “people” in over two years. That’s why. I’m out of practice. I was never good at “people-ing” pre-pandemic and then take away two years of forced socialization and not just allow but encourage isolation…yeah. I need some practice.

How bizarre though that there is this point in my life where I have to remember how to socialize. I have to retrain my brain to engage with people instead of hide from them. I also sat next to a dad who is as socially awkward as I am. We ran a field day station together in the Spring. I love socially awkward people. We can sit in comfortable silence. We acknowledge one another, hello, how are you, good, great, silence.

So aside from my mind blowing socialization situations I also learned the teachers know my sons. One son is sitting in the back row, furthest from the teacher, and he is there because he is incredibly obedient and I know he can be trusted to be far away from the teacher. My other son…is front row center. I was always a kid that could be back row. Very quiet. Very obedient. My other son- the front row center- not obedient. Pleasant. Polite-ish. But not back row obedient material.

Front row son has a broken arm. It’s been a long horrible week honestly. So today was his first day back to school. And the teacher told me she heard the girl next to him (who I know b/c we went to her bday party last school year) told him today after they got their lunchboxes for snack, “Whatever you need I’m here for you,” and then opened his lunchbox and juice box straw for him. Melt my damn heart.

I’ve also been told by his teacher he has been doing great and extremely well behaved. I laughed and said, “Keep him in the front. No matter how well behaved he acts for no matter how long.” She smiled and said, “Yeah, I kinda got that vibe.”

So I am learning how to socialize again, and it doesn’t feel bad. Just weird. And terrifying. But not bad.

Of course there was the one parent who asked about lockdown drills and I had to remember mass school shootings are a thing; even though I had already scoped out the room and noted two exits and my immediate thought had been if there is ever a shooter they have a way out…totally cool having that thought as a parent of a 6 yr old.

#IlovetheUSA #gunssuck #fucktheNRA

Reconnecting (post?/peri?) COVID.
#COVID-19 · mom of boys

Reconnecting (post?/peri?) COVID.

lesbehonest2017Leave a comment

I’ve had a lot on my mind for potential blogs. 1. I have been a nurse for 15 years. 2. I graduated high school 19 years ago. 3. My niece had an in-person recital for the first time in 2 years. 4. My sons got to see one of my Aunt/Uncle’s.

COVID is still here. I’m going to preface this blog post with I am fully aware of COVID. I am fully aware of the risks. In fact both my sons had COVID in January, and both of them coughed all over me, one literally in my mouth, and I think I’m one of those magical immune people…because I never got it (I got 3 PCR tests…all negative).

I will say that as people are getting it now- many who are vaccinated have much less severe illness. Many who are unvaccinated still have risks of death.

So don’t get on your soapbox about COVID to me. I get it.

But. People around me are very done. We are all fully vaccinated and we all basically miss each other and doing things. We are not stupid. We still test before seeing each other. We still discuss risk factors. We still spend as much time outside as possible. But we also need to live. We need to connect.

One of my Aunts was immunosuppressed during COVID making it doubly risky to see her. So we waited. And waited. We did see her at Christmas and my Uncle and cousin for the first time in two years. After Christmas, well my sons got COVID, and it was still difficult due to COVID to get together. Finally Spring arrived and we made plans for my sons and I to go over for dinner and pool time. It was heaven.

I was making a side dish that morning and I was marveling at the fact that I was making a side dish to bring somewhere. My world has shrunk to two friends, my mom, and sister in the last two years. So while I have done meals with them…and I love you all for being part of my bubble…it was incredibly exciting to see other people.

Now, mind you, I also grew up with both my Mom’s sisters. So going to their houses has not ever been a novelty, because we were frequently with them. But it felt so incredible to hang with them by the pool, and to have my sons there. The boys ran around their house, and it’s just not possible to describe the feelings of seeing your children run through hallways that I ran through as a child, and to think that we couldn’t do this for two years.

It’s felt like such a loss in many ways. Not only because I have not been able to see family members, but because my sons have been growing, changing, and they haven’t gotten to know the family members who I grew up with, who mean something to me.

At one point my Uncle had my son in a position to sort of dunk him, and if it had been my sister, my cousins, or I, there is no doubt in my mind he would have dunked us. But he doesn’t know my sons well enough yet to do it. He and I made eye contact and laughed because we both knew that I would have been toast in that position. And some day my sons will be too. We will get back to the connections that we had and honestly they are sweeter because I felt the loss of them over the last two years.

We have all changed, grown, I got divorced, and experienced so much through my business. And they have been facing their own battles. A simple dinner and some pool time was the sweetest moment of connection I have experienced in two years. And I hope to never take that for granted again.

Obviously I have many thoughts about being a nurse for fifteen years (two of which were during a global pandemic) and my niece’s in person recital is more a commentary on COVID and how I was able to attend an in person event and it was lovely! More to come about nursing. And as for high school…19 years…yeah. I have nothing more to say about that other than I feel old!

(The picture is NOT of my family and I lol, it just felt appropriate and was free through WordPress)

Yes I own a business. Yes I Am Female.
#COVID-19 · mom of boys

Yes I own a business. Yes I Am Female.

lesbehonest2017Leave a comment

I had friends over the other night. The mom and two boys came and there were then four boys running rampant in and around my house. The Mom and I had a glass of wine and chatted. They were people who were not in my COVID bubble. It was weird and nice and bittersweet and overstimulating. How many nights have we missed like this over the past two years? While I love my two friends in my COVID bubble and am incredibly grateful for ALL the nights we have had in the last two years…it’s a weird freedom to see other people.

It was so great and the reason I say bittersweet is because I just couldn’t help wondering how the last two years have impacted my sons.

I thought back to my own time between ages 4-6 and I had a best friend who lived down the street. We were always in and out of one another’s houses and always together. We did sleepovers and campfires and so much more. And my sons have never done a sleepover at some one else’s house. And until last month they hadn’t even seen their classmates full faces.

I don’t regret protecting them over the last two years. I don’t blame science as I fully believe the mitigation steps we took were necessary. I am grateful they are vaccinated. I am taking them to NYC for two nights in April, we are going to the Statue of Liberty. I may have booked this during a moment of temporary insanity but we are going.

Life feels semi-normal again. And it’s weird.

Some things that have not changed- the Republicans continue to push their anti-abortion and anti-trans agenda forward with little to no resistance in midwest and Southern states. I keep working and growing my practice and upon expanding I have encountered time and time again the micro-aggressions of society toward a female business owner. I have built and moved more furniture in the last month since opening my second location…then ever in my life. Sometimes I have help, and sometimes it’s just me. Swearing at the furniture. Fighting back tears as I realize the last three steps I did wrong…it’s a good time.

Back to being a female business owner. There are good people who treat me with respect. But there are also not nice people, mostly men, who can’t believe that my pretty little head can think and speak and tell them to go to hell.

I’ve been asked so many things, “So you own this business or you’re the admin or something? Who is your boss?” “Yeah but who is in charge?” “Yeah but who is above you?” “So this is your first time having an office?” No- second office location 3rd space since I opened. “So your income last year was what? Around sixty thousand or so?” Uh no. “So you own a solo practice?” Uh no. I have employees also. “Oh you have one or two employees?” No, I have eleven. And counting. “So what it’s like a spa?” No. Mental health practice. “So what you talk to people about their problems? Like a therapist?” yes. Kind of. I prescribe medication also. “So there’s one person who prescribes and then the rest are therapists?” Five. There are five prescribers. Four, soon to be five, therapists. Two administrative staff.

When I give my answers that are complete opposite to what they are expecting- they try not to look shocked but seem to keep grasping at a way to make me be less successful with their follow-up questions.

I’m not a bragger and I generally do not like talking about my work. But if some one is clearly making assumptions devaluing me because of my gender. I have a lot of feelings about that. And it is conveyed in my responses. If I was male I do not think I would be approached in this way. And my practice is not huge, it’s still small, but yeah I have worked my butt off for all of it. And if all my employees quit tomorrow I’d start over on my own. Failure and success do not scare me. I have made mistakes and will make more mistakes. But I do a few things right too.

I’m in a single mom’s group on FB and there was a thread about how dating. Some one posted a link to an article published in a journal in 2021- that showed through a rather large and well done study that men are seeking attractive females and if the male has a high education level then they are seeking a female with a lower education level. Females on the other hand, while they also seek attractive mates, they seek education levels that are on the same level or higher than theirs. So females are looking for mates who are smarter, and males are seeking mates who are less educated. And there’s surprise as to why dating apps have low success rates in creating a long lasting relationship. It’s not the apps fault though it’s user error.

What is so threatening to a male about an educated female? We have all seen it play out rather publicly this week- not just a well educated, well spoken female but a female of Color. Judge Jackson was composed, intelligent, and everything that the accused rapist now sitting on the Supreme Court was not. The Republicans who questioned her were grasping at straws trying to break her and again- most of them were white males. It felt as though they generally do not like her. But deeper, they are threatened by a woman with education- likely more education then them.

I don’t know why- a google search says everything from threat to their ego to their masculinity makes them feel like a failure…etc. But the data is clear. Men are threatened by smart women. Not all men. George Clooney is a great example of a successful man who openly acknowledges his wife Amal is smarter than he is and he is proud of her. George Clooney brings his own set of skills to the table though so maybe that’s a bad example.

In my own life I certainly hang out with smart women who are in partnerships with smart men and it is not detrimental to their relationships. As a female business owner who has lived mostly in seclusion in the last couple years, it’s been hard to enter back into the world and experience men at their worst though.

All I can do is keep on keeping on. Each time a transphobic law is passed I hire an LCSW or an APRN in my practice. I will keep expanding an LGBTQ owned business that services the LGBTQ community and nothing spurs me forward more than the hate we continue to face as a community. It’s hard work. It’s exhausting. But it’s worth it. It’s important to me that I stand. When I first started my practice I wanted to just be in a place where I could practice as myself. A Queer provider. Now it’s a place for me to practice, but also for me to help educate providers on Queer competence, and a place for Queer individuals to feel safe. It’s become something bigger than myself.

So I’ll take all the demeaning questions and follow-up questions and I’ll keep answering them. Because men should not be threatened by a woman’s success. And if they are that’s a them problem. Not a me problem.

On the flip side, my two little men, are proud as heck of their Mama, and after I showed them the new office in the new town we went out to eat, and they told the waitress beaming that “My Mama has a new office, and she’s the boss of two offices, she’s the big boss in charge.” Hopefully I’m raising two boys into men who will not be threatened by a woman’s brains.

Shut your piehole KK
#COVID-19 · mom of boys · Nursing

Shut your piehole KK

lesbehonest20171 Comment

A few months ago I hired some one to take over the billing for me. I had been doing the billing every waking hour that I wasn’t seeing clients…mostly between the hours of 8p-11p nightly. But I could see that either I’d have to give up my caseload of patients- which was not an option- or give in and hire some one. She already did my Quickbooks and happened to be in need of full time work. It worked out. She had no knowledge of medical billing.

But she is meticulous and could learn. I had no knowledge of medical billing until I owned a practice and taught myself.

The first month was a lot of questions that I answered and that she then would ask, “Okay where can I find that though?” and I’d smile or wince and say, “In my head,”. After a month and after the hundredth time I said that she laughed and said, “I literally cannot believe how much you remember in that brain.”

Can’t find my keys on the daily but I can remember the different sliding scales we offer for a hundred different people, and who has a payment plan on which days and who we have to call the Mom for, and who we have to call the Dad for payment, and who we have to email the Mom and the secret code words…lol. I mean it’s a whole thing. “I can’t find her in the system, is this another one whose Aunt or Grandma or Mom or Dad pays?” Was a question. And I knew the Grandma’s name and email. And it’s not my patient, it’s some one else’s in the practice. What about this one? “Aha, that’s a partner of x, x sees Rory and pays with this card, Y sees Alana and pays with this card,” “Why is the name different in both systems for both of them?” me “Yeah just accept that’s how it is and move on for this one, it’s too long to explain.”

“This one the transactions look…odd…is this one that we only bill on the 15th because that’s when they get paid?” I mean she picked up quick on the patterns at least. I told her part of her job is sleuthing because she’ll have to figure out the inner workings of my brain. Which is a scary place to go.

She’d ask about random Cigna plans and carve outs of Aetna plans and a NY based UMR plan that carves out to Cigna…and all the things. And it was all just in my brain.

Then after a month she was picking it up and I could back off and I suddenly had these hours FREE at night after the boys went to bed. I had these images and dreams of me being so productive, writing that blog post, folding the laundry, when in reality for the last month or so of free evenings I’ve stared mindlessly at the television watching episodes of Blacklist (I could do without the girl, James Spader is my favorite), murder docs like Murder in the Middle & I’ll be Gone in the Dark, and I went to bed. Many nights.

It was like that meme “My plans for my day off” “Me on my day off”. In the midst of the last month I also opened a second location which has resulted in many many days of moving and building furniture. And still seeing clients. And single mom-ing it. I planned out my Summer for childcare. A whole freaking expensive thing. I hate this country and our lack of support for working parents.

But I digress. I felt guilty the first few nights. Guilty that I had two hours to sit and stare at Blacklist episodes and snuggle with my dog. Then I thought. Fuck that. I get no time to myself. I’ve worked my ass off to get here and I was still working my ass off every day. What is wrong with me that I feel guilty for sitting for two hours and not being productive? When I saw clients this week I actually felt engaged and refreshed and not exhausted and burned out.

I literally thought to myself- this is odd- why do I not feel burned out and exhausted right now? Oh that’s right because I can actually go to bed. And snuggle with my dog. And think about things other than work for two hours a day. I still log in and do work. But I logged in the other day and there wasn’t anything for me to do. It was the weirdest freaking thing.

Within a month it was a forty hour position. I was doing a forty hour position on top of my 32 hours of clients and 8 hours of employee managing. That’s not okay.

I recognize now that was not okay. And I’m incredibly grateful that I took this step.

The best part of my week so far though was reading and watching Kim Kardashian’s comment that women need to work their ass off and no one wants to work these days.

I’m sure you can hear my eyes rolling. To speak as a billionaire who started life in a family with millions…yeah that falls a little flat.

We want to work. We are working. If you don’t start life with millions though it’s a little hard to work hard and still get ahead. Not for nothing but as some one born in 1985 I will never see a pension, I will never have fully covered health insurance with low co-pays and no deductible, I may never get rid of student debt if I decide to go back for my doctorate- if I stay with my master’s I may have it paid off in 5-10 years. I entered the workforce during the “worst economic disaster in history” in 2007. I didn’t get a raise my first three years as a nurse. I am parenting and working during a pandemic- again a “once in a lifetime event”. My clients who are going hungry do not have access to food. I love when a Boomer says, “Well they just need to access the resources, or apply to the state,” yeah that doesn’t exist. There are food stamps- they are extremely difficult to qualify for. There are no state programs that offer housing and food to any one who makes over 18k a year. You can’t live on 19k a year in this state. You go hungry. Like my clients.

But I digress onto a rather large soap box.

My point to this rambling. I work my ass off. Our society dictates we work our asses off. When all is said and done it will take three full time positions to take over all the administrative tasks I do for my practice. I do not want a medal. But I would appreciate a billionaire who was handed millions…to not make a gross judgment about women in a capitalistic male dominated society.

Stay strong. Work hard. Binge watch Blacklist or whatever you like and don’t feel guilty though. Because we all deserve a freaking break.

And yeah. Shut your piehole Kim.

Hospitals and Nurses
#COVID-19 · Nursing

Hospitals and Nurses

lesbehonest20172 Comments

I usually write a fiery, steamy, infuriated, depressing, crying, first draft of a blog post depending on the topic and my mood. Then I leave it for a night. Then I come back and completely erase and/or heavily edit it. Last night, I may have accidentally published the fiery, infuriated first draft. In my defense. It was late. The publish button is close to the preview button, and I was trying to figure out the picture size. Then all the sudden I got 5 views in maybe three seconds…and thought “hmmm”…immediately replaced by “shit fuck holy shit. Delete Delete Delete.” Of course not before my subscribers got the emailed copy.

So I get a call from my friend who subscribes and says, so…yeah. Maybe not a great idea to publish a rather thinly veiled expose. Fair. I agree. Picture me waiting for the lightening to strike.

I feel like that sums up my life. Letting out the emotional side before I make it PC and having to then backtrack and attempt to censor myself. Which, in all honesty, I should be censored at times. I fully own that.

However, the point of my blog post, even in all it’s fire-y-ness was to address the fact that hospital ferociously protect even bad doctors. Really bad ones. And if they put a fraction of that energy into protecting their nurses…there would not be a shortage.

That hospitals are advocating for legislature to cap travel nurses salaries instead of advocating for legislature to protect nurses aka: automatic felony for assaulting a nurse, student loan forgiveness, tuition caps for furthering nursing education, patient/RN ratios, safe staffing ratios…etc. To name a few. It’s freaking insulting. Not just a little insulting. But fiery steamy infuriated first draft blog post insulting.

Nurses are the lifeblood of hospitals. We see all. We know all. If every nurse let loose publicly the biggest secret they know about their hospital system…that would be, well, epic. But for hospitals…it would be literally a liability and natural disaster. So I just don’t understand why they keep pushing the very population of people who can whistleblow the crap out of them.

But here we are.

Hospitals are messed up places. Any one who has worked in one is emphatically nodding their head, smiling to themselves thinking of the most messed up thing they have seen. And I’m not talking with patients. I’m talking with staff. Because there’s a lot of both. Grey’s Anatomy…I mean I’ve never made it through more than ten minutes but I think real life would have it beat. Big time.

Hospital systems should maybe consider the true power nurses hold. In our knowledge…of everything. They should then consider supporting appropriate legislation to protect nurses. Protect nurses with the same furor and energy that you protect doctors and maybe you’d actually retain them.

My employees know that I have their back. When they are wrong I tell them. But, I never undermine them to clients or to other employees. They also tell me when I’m wrong. As I think they should. I am protective of them. They know that. We all have scars from working for larger corporations, mostly hospitals, where we were not valued or protected and even if we were right…we were always wrong. That sticks with you, and it completely destroys peoples confidence and sense of self. As an employer I feel like I worked to create a space where we can all just be ourselves and not be scared to be right or wrong and to always feel valued.

COVID sucks. But what it did was force healthcare to face the chasms that exist. It forced nurses to acknowledge they are treated as second class citizens. It forced families to discuss masks, health decisions, testing, vaccines and so much more. Could I have done without COVID? Yes. But I am not sad about the discussions it has brought forth. I am also not sad that it has finally publicly unveiled the lengths hospitals go to in order to not protect, not reward, and not promote their most valuable assets- nurses.

Encanto & Psychotherapy
#COVID-19 · Mental Health Stigma Suicide · mom of boys

Encanto & Psychotherapy

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I did not know what I was getting into when I sat down to watch Encanto. I saw previews with a house and young woman with glasses. That’s it. My sons and I watched it on my birthday in January. By the time Surface Pressure was over I was welling up with tears. When the grandmother was berating Maribel; the tears started to actually fall and by the time the Mariposa song was over I was literally sobbing. My sons at some point asked if I was okay and I sort of stuttered “Yes…it’s fine…it’s just very sad.” They didn’t understand why I thought it was sad I could tell from their perplexed expressions; but they didn’t question it further. I think they are used to me crying at movies. It happens a lot.

Family dynamics are intense. I don’t get into my family dynamics in my blog because I respect my family members enough to not write publicly or engage in gossip about them in any capacity. But every family has dynamics. Every family has inter-generational trauma. Mine is no different.

As Maribel stood and her grandmother berated her in front of her extended family members, the scene with Bruno as Maribel sees his plate drawn onto the table behind the wall, the many scenes with Maribel being scapegoated as she seeks and speaks truth…I felt all of that.

There is nothing like family, and a room full of people with blood connections to you, that can make you feel the most isolated, alone, and wrong.

I not only have experienced this but I spend my life counseling patients on their family attachments. What struck me about Encanto was the recovery scene at the end. The song her entire extended family partakes in that they see her, they love her, and they want her in their family. She is their family. The patients I treat generally never get to experience that moment. Because real life is not a Disney movie.

That connection scene provides validation and love. Psychotherapy can provide this in a different way. For all those individuals who do not have reparative moments and relationships with family members psychotherapy provides a space for the client to examine the relationship dynamics, the traumas, even the covert ones- the isolating, the scapegoating, and it’s looking back at the times you’ve drawn a plate on a table to feel close to your family who seem so incredibly far though they are sitting just six feet away.

Psychotherapy allows clients a space to examine the idea of love. Self love. Love of others. Receiving love and giving love. Insecure and secure attachment styles. It also allows us a space to examine the dissonance of deeply loving a family member be it a sibling or parent while acknowledging they may have done horribly traumatic things to you.

Psychotherapists spend their days singing the song at the end of Encanto. “We see how brave you have been. We see how bright you burn. You’re the real gift. What do you see? I see me. All of me.” (edited)

I used to love Disney movies. I still am a Disney fan. But. I have a more adult view of the movies. I have a more adult understanding of reality vs. fiction and good vs. evil. There are good people who perpetrate evil things. And there are evil people who everyone believes are good. There are so many shades of grey in between the black and white world of Disney.

The part of the movie that I viscerally felt was as I watched the grandmother pick up her three newborn babies and run with her husband. As they cross the river all I could think of was my own twin boys. The three little heads were reminiscent to me of all the times I looked down at my two boys little heads nursing, sleeping, crying, smiling. Even as I watched it I had one little head on each shoulder. I think it was deep for me because I took a journey also and am now a single mom. I felt her grief, her fear, and her determination. I’ve had to make my own miracles though.

I am grateful for my boys. I am grateful for the organized chaos that is my life as a single parent, business owner, boss, and clinician. I am proud of my work and I am proud of my employees as they are all dynamic and skilled clinicians. But I think Encanto succinctly summarized what we do for people in a way that I have never been able to. We see people. We help them see themselves. We empower. We are the family in that last scene watching with pride as she walks bravely to the door.

I’m opening a second location and a long time client (9? years) texted me because I told him I needed to tell him something. We then chatted on the phone, and when I told him I was going to be based in the new location he said, “Yeah, well just tell me the address and I’ll see you there. Remember that closet you used to be in? Your first spot?” Then he laughed and told me about the pharmacist messing up his last prescription and being flabbergasted that the patient had my direct number to text me so I could resend it. “He doesn’t know what we’ve been through together,” then he laughed. He’s always joking and lighthearted, but I heard the ring of truth. I have seen him through a lot. A. Lot. And he still has work to do. But that’s outpatient psychiatry. Developing trust, rapport, and being the constant there through…a lot.

Reflections on Christmas Eve 2021
#COVID-19 · Divorce and Separation · lesbian mom

Reflections on Christmas Eve 2021

lesbehonest2017Leave a comment

Christmas Eve 2021. My kids are at an age where they are starting to be kinda cool. They can laugh at stuff. They can appreciate good music. They can carry firewood. One piece at a time, but still, it’s one big piece now; used to be just kindling. Today I had them fill up the rack inside the garage from the racks outside. I told them 20 pieces each. They can count too which is quite helpful for the firewood.

It was 30 degrees out. They trudged back and forth in the cold. With promises of hot chocolate and the reminders that Santa is watching. They also helped shovel the driveway. That was less successful than the firewood. They helped me feed the cats, and herd the cats away from the dog. They miraculously kept the dog occupied for 40 minutes today while I took 40 minutes to myself on the treadmill. Usually I have to crate the pooch.

We went to my Mom’s and saw extended family outside of my sister and sister-in-law and niece. Literally the first family event with actual extended family since before March 2020. We know about the COVID surge. We took precautions. We all kept staring at each other. Because it’s been so long. But staring in a good way. I unfortunately was on a time crunch because the poor pup can only be in the crate just so long at five months old.

My Aunt and cousin have purebred yellow labs. I of course have my heinz 57 rescue mutt pup Cheetah. But we could commiserate on the new puppy blues. Because that’s definitely a thing. It was a lovely dinner and evening and honestly just a relief to see my Aunt, Uncle, and cousin.

As my sons and I drove home I put on the Sing 2 soundtrack.

The soundtrack is kind of amazing. We belted out the song the Gorilla sings. Then we belted out I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For. It was all amazing. And then I started crying. Not sobbing. But tears definitely fell.

I got to see my Aunt and Uncle and cousin once in two years. There are other Aunts, Uncles, and cousins I still haven’t seen and do not know when I will see again. The boys looked at my Aunt and Uncle on Christmas and smiled, and said, “We never see you!” Leave it to the kids to state the obvious.

Their childhood is shaped by this weird isolation. Their experiences are so incredibly different from my own childhood filled with Christmas Eves of Aunts, Uncles, cousins, great Aunts, great Uncles, and tons of second and third? cousins. Whoever was in the general Northeast area in the family would be around for Christmas Eve.

I grieve for what the boys are missing out on. I grieve for my Dad. Because he would be part of my inner COVID safe circle and he would love my dog and he would make horrible Dad jokes and be intrusive and annoying. But he would make the isolation of COVID so much less lonely. He’d probably come over every day just to see the dog.

As I drove home singing Sing 2 wiping away tears with my sons singing loudly I grieved for my marriage. Not because I want to be married to my ex but because I am lonely. It’s incredibly difficult to be a single parent during the holidays. It’s physically and emotionally exhausting and depressing in a way I can’t really describe other than to say if you know, you know.

But I also was happy. Happy to have that moment with my sons where we could laugh and sing and be silly together. It was a beautiful clear night and when we got home, let the dog out, and I put them to bed, it felt right. That night felt right, and that I suppose is the magic of Christmas.

Karate Class & Masks
#COVID-19 · mom of boys

Karate Class & Masks

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There’s something about karate class. I’m either falling out the door or, like today, my kids are mask-shaming another kid, whose mom then looks appalled, and my kids may or may not have said her kid was stupid for not wearing a mask. At which point my mouth was dropped open (behind my mask) and I was desperately trying to pull my kids back from unmasked kid, while avoiding eye contact with unmasked mom who was uttering, “It’s…a…CHOICE!” And I was muttering, “I didn’t say people are stupid I said not wearing masks is a stupid choice.”

Then I have to explain to my kids after class that while we may exercise our rights to wear our masks other kids may not, and we cannot make them feel bad for not wearing one. “But Mama that means they are stupid doesn’t it?” “And stupid is a bad word right Mama?” chimes in the other one.

“Did I actually use the word stupid? I don’t think I did.”

They are both nodding emphatically. Yes. I did. But again. I didn’t mean it makes a person stupid. It’s just a stupid choice. Uneducated. Ignorant. Okay stupid.

Then I’m texting one of my friends and one of my employees because they have been with me from the start of karate class adventures. They both basically said the boys are passionate and they love them and the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

It’s an odd thing. To sit in a waiting area of mom’s whose kids all thing the sun and moon revolve around us and to be teaching our kids such different things. Then there they all are, doing karate together.

I coached their basket-ball team this Saturday. At 8 AM. On a Saturday. The day after I got my COVID booster. I’ve had better times. But I’m glad I was there representing because I was the only female coach out of six parent volunteers. Twenty kids. Co-Ed. All in kindergarten. At the end I looked at another coach and said, “Well we have no where to go but up from here.” He laughed and agreed.

Basket-ball requires masks. So that was good. And all the kids did great with them. What I found interesting was the girls were far less aggressive than the boys. Then of course I’m friends with therapists, so I tell one of my friends my observation and she says, “Well do you think that’s because girls are socially conditioned to be less aggressive than boys? And boys are given societal permission?” That’s the thing about being friends with therapists. Being friends with therapists is a freaking trip.

There I am saying girls just need to toughen up, and then she drops this thought provoking bomb on me and I’m like well damn. I dunno. Then I get all introspective and think, I never felt conditioned to be less aggressive, in fact I was aggressive as hell from day one in basket-ball…so what does that say about me?

So do the girls all suck because of societal norms and expectations? I do live in a super red town and maybe girls here really are told to be girls. Whatever the hell that means. But then I’m thinking there are only twenty kids signed up for basket-ball. They keep it low because of COVID. So this is a small sample size. Though my town is small. But maybe there are other girls in town who are aggressive and they just are not playing basket-ball.

Then I think this is why I always have problems with other people. I’m intimidating, unapproachable, and blah blah blah. Said every manager ever. My response was always if I were a man would you be saying this. Their answer was always an awkward introspective silence. See I can pull out my therapist ju ju too.

Here’s my conundrum. I’m raising two white boys. Who clearly have my passion, drive, and lack of any hesitation to confront some one about what they think is right or wrong or whatever. They did the same thing last week at karate about the vaccine. But I intervened before the other kid’s mom heard. The thing is, I’m teaching by example for my sons to be somewhat confrontational. And as a white cis dude it’s different. But I don’t want to censor myself.

In other words. This single parenting situation is tough. I have to teach by example. But who and how I am as a Queer woman is different than how they should be as white cis ?straight dudes. I’m making assumptions based on them saying (age appropriately) girls are gross but they want to marry a girl. (Though one of them asked to marry me recently which I wholeheartedly accepted so all those other 6 year olds can just back off). Then I think should is a strong word, and how do I teach them to harness their power for good? Because the two of them standing in front of a maskless boy and pointing their fingers at him telling him he should wear a mask and people who don’t wear masks are stupid….that’s not what I’m going for. But honestly, wear a freaking mask. It’s hard. Because it’s not the kids fault his parents are making uneducated decisions.

Pandemic parenting 101. Wear masks. Don’t shame another kid for not wearing a mask. But, acknowledge that your kids will likely hear you say other people who are unvaccinated and not wearing masks are stupid and endangering everyone else in society and essentially slapping healthcare providers in the face who are working the front lines (AKA me and clients I treat and all my friends who are healthcare providers). And then will repeat that to unmasked individuals at karate class.

Then make a plan for how to survive karate class sitting next to that kids parent.