guts.

An average person can be extraordinary at this. But if you don't have any guts, if you don't have any try, you'd be damn lucky to be ordinary.

- Buck Brannaman {from the movie, Buck}

I've never considered myself an especially gutsy person. I'm a worrier. I think I was born a public health major because when Dr. Cole taught that public health is about RISK REDUCTION those two words spoke to my soul. I am all about risk reduction. I guess it's also interesting how we are all so different and we all need guts for different things in our lives. For me, going on a trip by myself doesn't seem like a big deal, but I sure have to gather a lot of courage to go to activities in my new ward by myself and try to meet new people. Anyway, I've done some things in the last year or two that have required just a crazy amount of guts and I'm glad that I'm being pushed out of my comfort zone.

This quote I shared from Buck Brannaman is talking about riding horses, but it totally applies to life in general. {I love it because I think just about everything related to horses applies to life in general.} I've been thinking about this a lot lately. About being brave. Anybody can have an extraordinary life, but you have to have guts. You have to really try. You have to have the nerve to do things that scare the crap out of you.

Coming up against things that are scary sure makes you stop to think about who you are and what you want, and what you're willing to do to get where you want to be.

So I'm getting ready to move across the country to Virginia to start PA school in January. I have to admit, thinking about that pretty much scares the living daylights out of me. But it's really exciting. These are strange feelings I'm having, I tell you! When I got my acceptance email my automatic reaction was sheer panic. Truthfully. It probably should be joy or excitement, but I felt panic. I'm comforted to have talked to others who felt the same way. {I am not crazy! Phew!} I have been talking and thinking about PA school for so long, but it has been so hypothetical. Like, yeah someday in the future, down the road, when I'm older and have my life together . . . someday I'm going to go to PA school somewhere. Well, folks. That someday has come and it's only about five months away and that somewhere is Eastern Virginia Medical School. Luckily, I have mostly overcome the panic. I'm looking for apartments in Virginia Beach, and that is exciting. It's going to be a fun place to live, if I ever have time for fun! I started looking at student loans, expenses, etc. last night, which created a new kind of terror, but it'll work out. I imagine this panic is a normal response when anyone who has always enjoyed some level of financial security enters into a situation of massive debt.

I was discussing my apprehension about this move to VA with a friend, and came to this major conclusion about my fears: It's a big challenge to give up easy for something really hard. Right now my life is a breeze. I'm in Provo; I like my job, my apartment, my ward; I have friends and family close by. Things are easy. Moving to Virginia will probably be lonely at times. It's going to be different, and it's going to be hard. But it will probably be awesome! So yes, it's hard to trade easy and comfortable for hard and different. It's worth it, though. Isn't it always worth it to push yourself to do more?

The point of all this is that if you want your life to be extraordinary you have to have some guts. I'm not saying that everyone should move across the country and rack up tons of debt going to graduate school. What I mean to say is that most of the things that make life beautiful are at least a little scary. Things like falling in love and getting married, or taking a new job, or becoming a mother, or learning a new skill. And having the guts to face those fears is what allows us to create extraordinary lives. When I look at the people around me, I'm impressed with the guts that they have. I'm pretty lucky for all the encouragement I get from my friends and the examples they set for me. And I'm pretty lucky that they don't all think I'm a big fat baby when I get panicky.

Lately I feel a lot like this:

But I'm trying to be more like this:

So you guys, I don't feel very brave or very gutsy {probably because I worry so much}, but I'm working on it. Which brings me to another quote. One of my favorites:

"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. . . You must do the thing you think you cannot do." 

- Eleanor Roosevelt

I've never regretted facing my fears, but I have definitely regretted not facing them. If you don't face your fears you'll never grow. Extraordinary isn't easy. I think I am in for quite a ride.

leap

via

This part of being an adult that involves making real life decisions is not working out so well. How do you decide where to go or what to do when your life is just kind of up in the air? For me I guess the first step is dusting myself off from the disappointments of recent months and then just pressing on. Taking that leap of actually making a decision is hard, though. Getting over the second guessing is virtually impossible for me lately. I'm trying real hard to have some faith and hope in the journey and the learning experiences and all that business. 

But let me tell you something: this girl could sure use a W right about now. My basketball teams couldn't even win this year, and we're going to be stuck watching Miami win the championship again. It seems like the Russell Westbrook to my KD is out with a knee injury and I just can't pull out a win.

What gives, universe? Could you throw some points my way, please? 

Thanks a bunch. 

thoughts at 4:30 am

It occurs to me as I begin to write this post that my blog has two recurring topics: heartbreak and my job is awesome. Luckily {for all of us} this is another one of those my job is awesome posts. 

Working as a CNA is interesting because in some ways it's actually kind of crappy. When I tell people what I do for work they generally find it quite cringe-worthy. My shifts the past two nights give a beautiful picture of why I love being a CNA and why I really can't wait to be a PA.

Last night I was sent to the medical/oncology floor to sit with an elderly man. The simple version is that he was very confused and disoriented. He had been agitated and combative and needed constant supervision. His wife talked to me briefly about how difficult the situation was for her, and I was able to reassure her that I knew what to do and we would be fine when she left.

Sitting with a patient is something that generally drives me crazy, but sometimes it is amazingly rewarding. Being stuck in a room for 12 hours, often with a difficult patient, is not my idea of a good night, but some of my most memorable moments at work have come on these nights. The man I took care of last night was very confused and very emotional. I spent a lot of time holding his hand, and as I did I reflected on the many nights I have spent sitting at a beside holding my patient's hand.

When that old man, looking so small and sad, reached his arm up and asked me to hug him it brought back a flood of memories of other patients I have cared for. Being a CNA is a lot about body fluids and tedious tasks, but it is most importantly about giving hugs and encouragement and holding hands when people are scared. Last night my patient grabbed my hand and asked me to let him know when I get married and have cute babies. Obviously I'll never even see that man again and he was very confused, but for last night I was his friend when he was alone and scared. That is a feeling that is hard to beat.

Tonight my patient has a gun shot wound in his chest. How Grey's Anatomy is that? I just want to say "We've got a GSW to the chest" while running through the hallway with Meredith Grey. The great thing tonight was having a PA from the trauma team come in to remove the chest tube. I got to see the entrance wound from the bullet and the spots where the surgeons cut. Plus I got to see him pull out the chest tube, which was seriously cool and kind of bloody. Night made!

And this is why I want to be a PA. I need to be able to do more-- like chest tubes, for example. I think the thing that makes great PA's {or physicians} is that they go beyond being great at procedures and prescriptions and diagnosing illness. The great ones also excel at making their patients feel safe and heard and important. With medical stuff people really need reassurance, encouragement, and hand holding because medical stuff is often hard or scary, or both. The fact that I get to be a part of all of this is what makes my job seriously awesome.

And now as I try to stay awake while sitting in a dark room for two more hours I will think happy thoughts of traumas and chest tubes.

it's a musical monday

I have a lot of songs that I just can't stop listening to lately, but here are a few:

Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey

Darling Dearest by Xylos

Windows Are Rolled Down by Amos Lee

Something Good by Alt-J {Also Breezeblocks & Fitzpleasure}

Big Jet Plane- Acoustic by Angus and Julia Stone

What are you listening to on repeat these days?

pain/beauty

"It is in dialogue with pain that many beautiful things acquire their value."

I just started reading The Architecture* of Happiness, and this is one of many passages in the book that resonates with me. I have spent a good deal of time searching for meaning in the pain, disappointment, and loss I have felt over the past year and a half. This is a big one. In the midst of the chaos and the hardest trials of my life, the world has become more beautiful. I'm inclined to feel more gratitude and satisfaction in the small things around me. {Most of the time, at least. I do still have relapses of the why-me?'s and seriously?!'s} I'm finding truth in the statement that you must know the bitter to know the sweet. When we experience pain our interaction with beauty becomes more meaningful- whether that beauty is in the form of art/architecture, or of nature, or of the people around us. My heart is somehow empty and full at the same time, and this is a very strange and beautiful feeling.

We all want to avoid pain. I myself was recently complaining, "Couldn't life just be easy for a little while?" But maybe the pain is worth it. Because even though sorrow often feels like it is breaking you into small pieces, it is actually making you whole. Pain helps you feel the whole human experience; it helps you love more fully; it helps you turn to and rely on God; it helps you to truly learn who you are and what you want and what kind of stuff you're made of.

*Did you know that I am a great lover of architecture? I very nearly chose to become an architect.  I was vacillating between health care and architecture, eventually choosing healthcare. But architecture! Oh I love it so.  And this will likely be another post for another day.