Yea, so as we age so do our elders. Many adults are feeling sandwhiched between their colleged aged kids and aging parents. The problems of both generations, choking the life out of them. Some family structures, aren’t so neat and easily described. Single parent households, and blended families make this sandwhich feeling applicable to more than just the immediate offspring. Grandchildren and nieces and nephews may have to feel the burden. Sometimes those romanticlly involved or married into the family also experience the weight of the sandwhich. Let’s not forget about the family strife which always complicates any situation. The woes of loved ones growing older and transitioning into their classic version, smh. As, I type I can’t help but, ponder my own current situation; who will help me transition into my classic version? One of my relatives, has only one child who is married and lives out of town. The lady is widowed and her closest relatives are unreliable and have proven to be dishonest. Yet, she still deals with them, now. Before being widowed, and especially in her younger years she kept a long handled spoon type relationship, and now even after having large amounts of merchandise and other family fiascos, she still puts herself in positions to be taken advantage of. All I can say is that the lonliness must outweigh the sense of reason. Perhaps dementia is starting to set in? It’s hard to say. Wrestling with the psychological stirrings of being fulfilled and reflecting on life surely affects one sense of being, and, outlook on material things. Because what else would make a seemingly competent woman act so illogically? I am like old skool Spock, “That is illogical woman”!
When talking to people who are my senior, about aging; I try to be delicate and respectful because you never know where people are at on it. Personally, I am proud of my 36 years, BUT, I am shocked to admit my age. Time DOES pass quickly. My life, however seems young. Maybe because, so many of my counterparts are raising kids or stuck in the life sandwhich, and the daily grind of work and child rearing. Anyway, I digress when speaking professionally, I usually will say “As we age” or “As we become more classic”. I have to be sensitive like this because I never know if people are ok, with aging. My grandmother seemed to have issues with her aging. She often made comments about getting a job, that was very physically demanding, or driving cross country. OK. With some people, I have to be gentle and blunt. personally and professionally, because their disconnect with reality and determination make, redirection impossible. So, I resort to the truth. One guy at work, exit seeking. He will park his wheelchair next to a door, and request to be let out the door, onto the porch. He lives close and wants to walk home. Sometimes he will sing loudly, smh. I may sing back, “No sir, can’t open that door”, and then I gently remind him that he doesn’t walk so well nor does he drive. If I let him roll himself home, his family will be upset, and I will be accussed of elder abuse. He typically stays put without many more dramatics. My grandma, I had to do the same way, smh.
Then you have our parents, lol. Man, it’s like you get your groove back in your 50s. I guess the 50-something folks I know have grown kids. They are pretty independent and stable, the majority anyway; so the 50-somethings are partying more than me, smh. Seriously. The women have a new attitude. Wearing sexy shoes, higher than mine and, can afford them, LOL.
I say all this to reflect on aging, apparently in general. I guess 36, sounded old, so old, when I was 9. I look around and heck, 36 is kinda old. If this is kinda old, lets look at those around me and, get a reality check. I ponder over all the changes. The deaths and the changes that occurred after a passing of a loved one. Smh. The dynamics sure do change. I think about the lives of those who are really classic, like 90 and how many shifts they have had to endure. Especially, the sick ones, the ones suffering from dementia, physical immobility and severely dehabilitating illnesses. I think about their family processes, and/or the lack there of. I think about how all of those things affect who can and will be there for you as you slide into classic status.
It’s crazy how issues left to fester often resurface after someone has died and, the new dynamics are setting in. It’s crazy how the guilt and hurt manifest when soemone is really down and sick, or has a change of condition that impairs their functionality and, how they live. Forcing loved ones to make decisions for them and view them in this declined lesser state. Sometimes victims of abuse may over control pain medication, not wanting their geriatric loved one to become addicted to narcotics because, they were a substance abuser in previous years, and that resulted in some slight for the family member now in control. People may not want to accomodate for the variations in the person.”They should have done this, or that and this wouldn’t be like that”. It’s like the emotional baggage clouds the mind, or the empathy. Sometimes, this makes it hard for caregivers. The families of the sick, are often harder to deal with than the one who is “technically” ill.
I guess these are all Growing Pains. The Growing pains of life.
Something about this time of year causes me to get real introspective. Perhaps, it’s everything dying and preparing for winter. It’s like I’m trying to hold onto the electricity of the summer, but the autumn rhythms pick up in intensity as the temperature drops and sunset comes sooner. I ponder the beginning of the year, and the progress I have made since then. I give all glory to God. Yet, I often feel melancholy in the fall as I look forward to less sunshine 🙄. I enjoy the Christmas and holiday season, that comes with winter, Other than that; I prefer warmer temperatures. So, I see the year coming to a close, and often with many goals not yet obtained. I struggle with how much rest and relaxation I need, versus the amount I get. It’s usually either not enough or too much. Too much may result from binge chillin or paralysis of analysis, where I’m overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things I feel should be doing or have accomplished. The too little comes in, from obviously not, having time. The season that seems to make me consider this the most is fall. Perhaps, because to some this is a time of pruning and letting go of the dead, resting and preparing for renewal. Just maybe, my spirit is in tune with nature.
Sooooo….. when I first got this idea to start a blog, I was just starting nursing school. I thought it would be so cool, to document my journey and all that— YEA FRICKIN RIGHT. I didn’t have the time or mental capacity to do what I needed to do, let alone document a journey. Which is a total bummer 😨, but the truth! Yea so, now I’m here with all these ideas and notes and, it’s 4 years later 😂😂! Life totally got in the way, and I did not manage to collect the reins to blogging until recently. It amazes me, that I could have gotten so off track. But, as it stands I did graduate with a degree in nursing, yet still have to pass that darn NCLEX 🙄. I can’t believe I haven’t passed that thing 🤢. So, now my blog is going to feature, reflections from nursing school and the journey to passing the NCLEX. Plus, as a bonus, my road to learning to blog, LOL. I feel bashful about sharing my thoughts like this, even though, I obviously feel compelled to do so. Anyway, because of that I had old blogs saved and, I’m now ready to share those, I guess 😂😂😂!
But, yea so I’m not technically a student, but not an RN YET!!!! So, here we go, leaning on the Lord and pressing on. Truth be told though, I feel like I have ADD tendencies and my life moves at an interesting pace, so keeping those things balanced keeps me pretty busy. So, here we go!! 🏄🏾♀️🏄🏾♀️🏄🏾♀️
This NuSkoOl UrBaN NuRsE is an eclectic stew of life from the point of a young African-American RN student. The main ingredients of this gumbo are spirituality, wellness and education. Seasoned with humor, love and class. The meat of this dish, is reality. Not reality and fortune or fame, just the realness of being a black Christian woman in this day and age in nursing school. So, join me for the ride. I’ll show you where I have been and you can see where I am going.
Long hair. I’ve always loved it. Achieving it and the politics involved are a whole different ballgame. Thanks to a bad experience as a youngster with track weave, I decided early on that between the possibility of it coming out and the intense itch that I suffered from my thick hair being braided and sweating, track weave was NOT for me. I kept my hair braided during stressful periods for years and typically wore my hair relaxed. Through the years people would compliment my braided or relaxed styles and, I would feel like they only thought I was beautiful because I had these artificial modifications. I began experimenting with natural hair. My poor hair was so dry as I tried to force it to be straight. I had no idea which products to use nor the patience to figure it out. Back to the creamy crack. This dance continued even when I moved to Florida. I hadn’t actually been planning on going natural when I began the journey this time around. The intense demands of my nursing program caused me to want low maintenance hair, so the braids were a typical choice for me. Fake hair itches my skin. Human and synthetic. I’m also afraid that I’m getting fake hair even when I buy real hair. Who’s hair is this anyway? So, after graduation I thought about ways that I could manage my hair and, I considered SisterLocs. I love my hair. Flat out. It’s coarse and has a tendency to be dry. It’s also thick and extremely coily but, I love it all the same. I also knew that I would prefer to wait to do anything drastic like that after my hair grew out some more. So, I was stuck STILL with braids. Luckily, God intervened. My niece had a beautiful twist out and I loved it. I talked with my natural hair stylist about doing a twist out for me with about 8 months of new growth. It came out, ok. The funny, thing is I didn’t know that it was just ok. I went home twisted it, fluffed it and pinned it and voilà!!! My natural swag was born!! My cousins and I picked out new make-up for me. I, for some reason think that I should wear lipstick with my natural and felt less inclined to do so with fake hair. These rituals are just for me, I don’t think there is a right way or wrong way but, for me I prefer the lipstick. My mother, did some awesome research as she typically does and suggested products that I may like because of course, my stubborn hair was again DRY! I started with several Cantu Shea butter products. My hair responds well to shea butter. At the time I was using an olive oil shampoo and Cantu Shea butter products post-wash. I saw improvement in the continued moisture through the week as my natural styles seem to acquire buildup within two weeks if not, sooner. However, still dry. I increased my hair care regimen to include more Cantu Shea butter products including their shampoo. Yum. My hair ate that up. I also spotlighted with a curl defining cream and Argan oil from another product line. Absolutely adore the results. Loving, LOVING my natural hair. Finally I can manage my own hair in it’s relatively natural form. My cousin braids and twists it for me as I am not gifted like she is. The maintenance I can do. However, I have done some experiments to see the worse my hair can look and what I can do if my cousin isn’t available. Most of my natural looks are attainable with some patience and a dryer. Still loving the journey.
When people ask me how’s school going, I smile and struggle to answer. I know that sounds odd, but……
You ever meet someone and fall in love (or lust), and the relationship is all shiny and new…… It grows, there are ups and downs, joys and pains, and the beloved awkward. Once it matures, it’s a beautiful thing…. There’s always been a thin line between love and hate…..
So, with that said, I’m at the point where we have grown and I see maturity in sight as far school is concerned. The point just before that is where I am at! I have coined it painfully great!!!!
The effort I put forth and the emotions involved are painful. The experiences are great, the unexpected rewards of helping people, loving them, priceless.
The successes, the failures, the prayers, the long nights, the griping and moaning, the impossible reading assignments, the CTSD, all a part of the experience…. And it’s painfully great. As long as I don’t get kicked out, it will prolly stay that way, or get even better!
Come to find out, being a nurse may be painfully great…….
I just want to know why nursing books speak in super medical lingo ur first several terms and then Start speaking in Plain English when ur almost done…. If u spoke English at first it might not have taken 4 terms to get ur point across…. For example just call ascites, liver sweat. #mythoughts