Of A Healer: From The Outside

Sunlight blazed into existence as I stepped from the carefully controlled climate of the hospital. It was mid July and the days were hitting mid 90’s.

“See you next week,” someone called a coworker as they walked towards a waiting shuttle.

I waved and walked down the sloping lawn towards my won bus stop beyond the main parking structure. Behind me my hospital stood, perched upon the edge of a mountain. Blue-green glass windows gleamed in the late afternoon sun.

Glad I don’t have to come back to you for a few more days” I thought with a smile. The sun felt so good on my skin, warming the ache of a day spent in a cold, sterile environment.

I paused for a moment, taking in the main hospital, and beyond it my sprawling city. It was a beautiful moment.

Taking a turn past the emergency department, I found myself walking down the ambulance ramp that lead straight to the ER. My eye naturally began to follow the staggered windows of the medical ICU unit on the second floor.

It was almost too hard to look at the windows as they shifted the suns rays into my face. Temporarily blinded I stopped and blinked for a few moments.

A swift movement caught my eye and I started forward, suddenly curious. There were forms moving by a shadowed window.

Me being on the ambulance ramp I found myself at eye level with the window, which turned out to be another ICU room.

As I watched the movement in the room I found myself momentarily dumbfounded. There before me was a scene I’ll not soon forget.

A team of four nurses stood over an occupied bed. One of the four knelt on top of the bed, rhythmically pushing on the patient’s chest. Eyes widening I watched as someone moves a crash cart into view, and then a third person placed a rebreather mask over the patient’s face.

“Their coding him,” I said to no one but myself. I was exhausted from the day but enraptured watched the familiar dance of CPR play out before my eyes.

My body immediately went into a fight or flight response as I felt my heart rate climb, thundering in my ears. The sun lost its shine for those moments I stood transfixed, staring out at the four people stepping between life and death.

I was there, feeling the patient’s chest move under my hands, feeling ribs pop and chest recoil under my hands.

Yet I wasn’t there, standing beyond the glass, a stranger separated by what seemed an entire world.

Emotions moved deep within my body as I watched nurses switch out. I felt their fatigue, their anxiety, and stress.

But then a distant honk up the ramp reminded me of where I was and the spell was broken.

Glancing back at the I noticed the curtain was pulled shut.

I shook my head and continued following the familiar steps towards home.

-M.E. InkOwl

March On The Ink Owl

Hello and welcome to March in the InkOwl.

This month I will be focusing my posts on selected excerpts from my personal experience as a Healthcare Assistant in a hospital setting.

I am excited and nervous to share these experiences as some come with a lot of emotions attached. There are some tender memories and some traumatizing events I’ll be sharing, so forgive me for any strong language or graphic episodes that are shared.

I’d like for this to be an opportunity to share the unique perspective I have with healthcare and also show a snippet of what experiences we healthcare workers have in this setting. So prepare yourself for a interesting month.

-M.E. InkOwl

Self-love: Love, A Process

“I now see how owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing that we will ever do.”
― Brené Brown


Brené Brown holds a masters of social work and is a research professor for the University of Huston. For more than fifteen years she has been studying topics such as courage, vulnerability, shame, and empathy. You can learn more about Brené Brown by visiting her website here. Here are links to more of her published works on Amazon.com:

Self-Love: Wolves Inside My Head

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You’ll never finish this, you do realize this?

Why are you even trying?

There’s no way you’ll ever change yourself.

You’re worthless,

Stop.

You’re broken.

I am not.

You’re a disgusting mess, an embarrassment.

I am loved.

Why do you still exist?

I am cared for.

I have worth beyond the darkness inside of me.

Who are you to tell me who I am?

I am strong.

I am loving.

I am kind.

I am whole.

I am more than you’ll ever know or be.

-M.E. InkOwl

Self-Love: Truth and Courage

“Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren’t always comfortable, but they’re never weakness.”
― Brené Brown


Brene Brown holds a masters of social work and is a research professor for the University of Huston. For more than fifteen years she has been studying topics such as courage, vulnerability, shame, and empathy. You can learn more about Brene Brown by visiting her website here. Here are links to more of her published works on Amazon.com:

Self-love: Authenticity

“Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.”
― Brené Brown


Brené Brown holds a masters of social work and is a research professor for the University of Huston. For more than fifteen years she has been studying topics such as courage, vulnerability, shame, and empathy. You can learn more about Brené Brown by visiting her website here. Here are links to more of her published works on Amazon.com:

We Could Not Look Away: Not Another 17, Not Another One- A Collabrative Poem

I am part of online writers group from GoDogGoCafe and recently we came together to voicing our grief and sadness over the latest school shooting. This is a heavy topic that needs to be discussed openly and frequently. My hope with these words is to not commiserate in woe and anguish but to inspire reform and change. Understand that we individuals in society can and do have a vital role in changing what happens in our homes, neighborhoods, and countries. Feel free to reblog and share this as much as you can.

students

Just another day
just another town
bullet perforated backpacks
spilling loose-leaf lined paper, textbooks
onto blood stained sidewalks
helicopters hovering
to give us the birds eye view
I tried to avert my eyes
out of respect for the dead
the injured
but I could not look away
Christine Ray

Even though I should
Because I am ashamed
At the bullets that rain
At the bullet point pain
Etched in their faces, rivulets in their eyes
They were just children, stolen from their time
Not forgotten in these lines
But to their parents and loved ones
It’s a void they’ll never fill, and it shouldn’t
Lives shredded and ruined
17 times we’ve gotten the chance to do better
and for the 18th, we blew it
Just like those children who looked at their killer

Their killer is not Nikolas

The Killer is you
Devereaux Frazier

Seventeen blossoms
seventeen blinks of an eye
seventeen bullets in the body of spring
and those left behind
food to flashback phobias
memory outbursts
numbing
Spring won’t be coming
in a town far away
in a country across the sea
right next to me
Basilike Pappa

Running
Running for class president
Running for the Varsity Football Team
Running to get in line for a movie they can’t wait to see
Running to embrace someone they love
Running and laughing with siblings or friends
Running to get to the dance floor before their favorite song ends
Running for exercise
Running for fun
They should never be running from the thunder of a gun
We’re destroying our future for profit and gain
While they run for their lives
And we’re left with questions and pain
Eric Syrdal

Look away, little bird.
The sky has adjourned, rejecting your flight path
well into wrath.
hell hath no fury like the anger turned apathy, semi-automatic rhapsody that plays on
the overhead speaker that once freed us
from maths.

It doesn’t add up, the physics, social studies, introduction to business, life and
death 101.

Nothing could prepare us for the words we don’t have.
Nicholas Gagnier

Lives swung into darkness
and voices numbed
Eyes losing hope
and
Blood on the hands, soul
screams and tears everywhere

Deafening silence of the death
and roaring sound of the violence
life stripped of its happiness
and tears losing the feeling

Yet again, My heart is hopeful
Lips in unison with the prayers
Trying to calm my self down
Thinking It won’t happen again

But deep down inside
I know we all are living in denial.
Megha Sood

Spare me your
thoughts and prayers.
Spare me your
people-kill-people babble.
Seventeen more names
added to a statistic
that will never be used.
So, by all means,
let’s keep sending
millions of dollars a year
to powerful people
in exchange for turning
a blind eye.
Proving over and over again
that dollars mean more
than lives.
Sarah Doughty

Seventeen more reasons we grieve.
Seventeen more reasons we’re
broken as a nation.
Seventeen more reasons we must
rise up
a giant against apathy, and
negligence—
willful ignorance.
Destroy the dissidence.
End the agenda of greed.

Our freedoms are not free—
seventeen more innocent souls sacrificed.
Kindra M. Austin

True horror has unfolded,
We watch on glowing screens of disbelief.
With the voices of innocents ringing in our ears,
Fingers swipe it all away.
As others moved on with their day,
I could not look away.

Grief, pain, disbelief,
All right there, before our eyes.
Yet one headline replaces the next,
That gut-wrenching sadness suddenly replaced.
As the topic changes to something else,
I could not look away.

Where is our humanity,
I ask as society moves on from this butchered elephant in the room.
Can’t we just stop and think,
Acknowledge the death, the suffering, the wrongness.
Another day will come and go, setting on our community,
We cannot look away.

Doomed to repeat this dreadful fate,
We need to choose to change.
Insanity is as insanity always does,
As we continue to place ammunition with malignant intent.
What can I do, the individual, the lone soul, this:
I will not look away.
Michael Erickson

We
Only
Have ourselves
To blame for this
Again and again
An unsolved tragedy
We must hold ourselves to task
For every death. Every child
Like spent shells fallen to the ground
Souls adrift to haunt those who do not act –
Who do not act again and again and again
I cannot look away again, again, again
Again
Again
Again
Again
Again, again, again, again, I cannot look away, not again.
Stephen Fuller

I cannot look away
From the train wreck shit show
This country has become,
Where cash in a senator’s pocket
Outweighs the blood of our children,
Where losing your ‘right’ to own an assault rifle
Is more an abomination
Than Children being murdered in school
Than human beings dying at a concert in Vegas
Than parents burying their babies.
The blood on your hands will not wash away.
I’m with you in Parkland!
Where kids call presidents out on their bullshit.
I’m with you in Parkland!
Where they won’t let hypocrites hide.
I’m with you in Parkland!
Where they call BS on the lies.

I’m with you in Parkland!
John W. Leys

vigil


https://bloodintoinkpressblog.wordpress.com/2018/02/20/we-cannot-look-away-not-another-17-not-another-one/

https://braveandrecklessblog.com/2018/02/20/we-cannot-look-away-not-another-17-not-another-one/

Self-love: A Reminder

“Imperfections are not inadequacies; they are reminders that we’re all in this together.”
― Brené Brown


Brené Brown holds a masters of social work and is a research professor for the University of Huston. For more than fifteen years she has been studying topics such as courage, vulnerability, shame, and empathy. You can learn more about Brené Brown by visiting her website here. Here are links to more of her published works on Amazon.com: