The new generation of nurses

 I (and a few other oncology nurses) was asked by a nursing student to come speak to nursing (and pre-nursing) students at this place...

 There was quite a turn out! About 85 nursing students got to ask questions of "real nurses" about things that are really on their mind. Why did you want to be an oncology nurse? How do you balance your time running between patients? What do you say when a patient starts crying? What are some of the wrong things to say? What do you do to keep yourself from going crazy/getting depressed when your patients do bad? What do you say if a patient has different religious beliefs than you do? What if you hate your boss? How do you cope? What was the scariest thing you saw or did?

 The panel consisted of a MSN student (that's me!!!), an oncology Clinical Nurse Specialist (Aran), an oncology research/drug nurse (Sandi), a PhD student (Carlin), and an oncology nursing school teacher (Paula). I must say, I was honored to be on the same panel as these fire-cracker impressive women!

The student who had organized the event was inspired by her mother who is has been battling cancer and now is in remission. Her mother (holding the flowers) spoke about her own memories, the things she could not remember, "chemo-brain", and showed brave pictures of her throughout her journey; pictures of hair loss, infected fingers from poorly done finger sticks, port insertion, side effects of steriods, and the tears as she shaved her head once the chemo kicked and her hair fell out. The room was in awe. This experience was moving. The stories the nurses shared, the insights and questions the students gave us a glimpse in to, and the personal journey battling cancer was powerful.

So HAPPY NURSES WEEK to all you powerful, beautiful, strong nurses!!! (oncology or otherwise!)

Welcome to...

When I read the above email, I thought it surely must be a mistake. Honor nursing society? Me?
Yes, Me!!! And a few of my peers.

From top left to right, then bottom left to right..Elissa, Heather, me, Ruth, Lucy. On to the bottom left...Sandra, Vivian, Melvin, Liza, Raquel, Tracee, and Randi.

Below, with one of my Canadian nurse friends.

Tracee and I started this all together!

And with my Dean of nursing...Barb Taylor

I guess that makes me official!

Looks like I have some smarts after all!

After a long hike, it felt good to sit down in front of a fire...

...and then head off to bed in my tent....
...to wake up to a beautiful (but really cold) sunrise....

...and the start of a New Year!!! Welcome, 2012!

new year

The end of 5/22/11

Art on the walls

Walking around San Telmo (a neighborhood of Buenos Aires) proved to be colorful and cheery.
Morbid? Nah. If only everyone could see death as this fun, it would sure make my job a lot easier! Ha!


Strange serpents (with my initials) drew my attention

I was fascinated by how stacked the living quarters were and wondered how much it cost to live in one. It reminded me a bit of Stockholm, but with no color.
I have always been a fan of iron work. This neighborhood was no exception.

From a distance it was just black protection. Upon closer examination, it was definitely protection!!! This was one grumpy lion. I sure didn't want to break in!

Across the street was a charming park, and the couple was unknowingly obliging to add their presence to the romantic mood of the tree tunnel. Funny story, when I was in Hawaii with my grandmother many years back, we drove up and down one particular path looking for the "tree tunnel" marked on the map. We did not see any trees you could drive through, as I was expecting, having had gone to the Redwoods in northern California. On our third pass, I remarked that driving through all these trees (much like in the picture) was much like driving through a tunnel. Insert palm to forehead moment. We were in the tree tunnel!!!

I had originally planned to walk down to La Boca, but weather and time got the better of me and I headed back through San Telmo again, delighted by the colors.

As I had mentioned earlier, I was definitely erring on the side of caution. I had no plan to be out alone, in a city I did not know, after dark. Alone. By myself. In a new city. No way, no how.

I was so glad I had seen tango dancers in Argentina, as I did not go to any shows, and had NO intention of going out ALONE in a city I did not know to see some real dancers. There is a place by my house which would be glad to teach me should I get the inkling. Better safe than sorry, right?

As I wandered back through, I started to get a bit cold and hungry. Next post... my next food and drink adventure. With an unexpected twist!!!

...and there was shopping

Antiques, yes. There were. I absolutely LOVE this dress on the left.
And there was music. Sweet, fantastic music!!!

When I arrived, I saw these ladies, and could only assume they were debating about staying and dancing if it was going to keep raining.

I didn't know it at the time, but this dancing trio seem to be quite popular, and when I wandered a bit farther, I happened upon postcards with their picture on them!!!

The crowd watched as the couple danced. It rather reminded me of an Argentinian version of my German folk-dancing grandparents...

Such passion!

Some dances were soulful. Some quick. The music changed the grey day into a colorful taste of tango.

I ended up buying 3 CD's, and continued to wander the vendors booths.

So many old pieces of what I can only assume to be past treasures. It did sadden me to see some of the architectural details reduced to laying around on a table, hoping the local traveler would bring them home and return them to their previous glory.

Whose grandmother had these belonged to? How many Thanksgivings, Christmas's and Birthdays had these been brought out and then polished?

I found this random sink outside of a shop in an old courtyard to be intriguing. Had it been placed there for garden parties?

Clearly wealthy people had lived in homes like this. I had heard of recessions in Argentinian past, but how aweful would it be to leave such a glorious place, and how hard must it have been to sell of the pieces. Was it voluntary, or not so much?

I peeked into the back room of one of the shops and wondered what it had been like for the people seizing the details, the lamp shades, the door knockers? Awkward? Rewarding?

I continued down the cobble stone paths in search of more adventure....