Attempting Ambition

I am up to do just about anything for some extra cash. Over the last 6 years, on top of sipping a lot of caffeine to support my overtime habit, it would not be abnormal to find me in a blood donation chair twice a week donating plasma for beer money or spending weekends in a facility where generic medication was tested on me for the price of couple thousand dollars which paid for my wedding and a trip to Africa. I am a slave to the almighty dollar. Money makes the world go round. This means that any legal opportunity (hold the prostitution jokes) I have to make a little extra cash, I typically go for it. In July 2014  I decided that I was going to donate my eggs to a stranger and in return I would get $5,000.   I put in my information in an on-line application and one week later I had a 30-40 page packet in my mailbox. This included all of the information about the donation process. It also included a profile packet that I was to complete and return. I let all of this sit on the

On cold winter days , she used to beg her father to take her to the Mississippi river 's edge . She loved the way the cold wind felt on her pale , wind-flushed cheeks . She marveled at the sheets of ice that would give the fearless little girl the urge to jump on and see where the river would take her, but most of all , that little girl loved the gulls . She enjoyed watching them fly above her head , and the sounds always made her giggle in delight - so many squawks. She also adored feeding them the stale bread from their pantry . The way they skimmed the water to grab the soggy piece of discarded food , the way they would fight each other for alternating bites . She used to give them names and pretend that they were a gigantic family who relied on her and daddy to feed them in the winter . A family who cherished her as much as she did them. Her father would watch , i

As of August 10th I have been a working, bachelor's prepared RN for six months. As the intended audience of this post is generally my fellow new nurses and those who will come behind me, I take no offense to those of you who skip this entry. However, I will say that despite most of it being medical, there is, as always, a deeper message. Also, for friends and family who ask questions like "how is it going?" and "are you liking it?", here is some insight into the depths of nursing. February 2014 I walked into my place of employment with my degree and license in hand. There were mixed emotions. They mostly consisted of nervousness, impatience and inadequacy. I wanted so badly to be THAT nurse. THAT nurse who could spit pathophysiology so clearly, patients understood it as easily as a children's book. THAT nurse who could juggle six patients and still find the time to help her coworkers. THAT nurse who listened to her patients, to not on

June is warm and full of the promise of a hot St. Louis summer. June also contains Father's Day. My dad passed away on Dec. 22, 2006. He was 52. While I have had the opportunity to feel this loss for close to 8 years, there is always that nagging feeling that my father isn't among the living. It is a more intense version of leaving my house without my cell phone or my wallet. Others cannot see what isn’t there, but I feel the itch under my skin. It is the buzz of the clandestine fly in my dark bedroom as I try to sleep. In June, he is everywhere, and he is nowhere. He is gone, and he is holding my hand. He is the air. I spoke to him the night before he passed then found him the next day. His body lukewarm and beyond saving, a gift given to me and taken away abruptly.  Bereavement is also more challenging if the relationship is dependent. My dad and I had a fiercely strong relationship. Every week or so since his death, I have a dream where I am speaking to

This blog is dedicated to one of my best friends, Maggie Edwards. I hope you can find a good story to tell with that scar I left you - haha!  Scars are areas of fibrous tissue that replace normal skin after injury. A scar results from the biological process of wound repair in the skin and other tissues of the body. Thus, scarring is a natural part of the healing process. With the exception of very minor lesions, every wound (e.g. after an accident, disease, or surgery) results in some degree of scarring. What do these areas of fibrous tissue say? After recently attending a drunken float trip and launching a sharp rock (accidentally) at my friend’s eye, I began to think about scars. The pathophysiology behind them is basic enough. You slice up your skin in some way and your body repairs it, but it never looks quite the same. I started to look at my own scars. Being a tomboy during my childhood, with some of those traits being carried with me into adulthood, I have plenty of st

It has been one month since I have returned from Kenya. I just finished the last of my chocolate from a layover in Switzerland and all of my mosquito bites have finally cleared up. I have had a negative tuberculosis test and no symptoms of malaria. The only thing that lingers, is a permanent place in my heart for the experience I endured. A permanent place for that humbling, heart-wrenching, incredible journey. The first week after I came back, I had no desire to speak about the trip. I didn't want to show photos, I hardly wanted to smile. I was in a very dark place of guilt, sadness and anger. I wanted nothing to do with my family and if Ben hadn't been so understanding, I think that my demeanor could have been grounds for divorce (haha). That first week, I cried nearly every day over nothing significant. I became enraged after Ben watered the flowers, flowers with no fruit or vegetables, no purpose. Flowers that drank more clean water in that ten seconds than a Kenyan chil