Fall Apart, Come Together

Aleathia says:

Yesterday was pretty interesting....unexpected.  My friend Vicki gave me a ride home from work because I wanted to make sure Michael had the car for his 5 am shift.  She drove me home after an uneventful shift at work and sitting in my driveway we had a good old fashioned bitch session. It didn't make me feel better or worse about what we were discussing until the end.

Vicki said to me that in the end we are not obligated to the manager or the senior leadership, in the end we are obligated to the patient.  We are obligated to take care of them and care for them.  I sat there with that a minute.  I took it with me while I ate breakfast, while I fed the dog, while I took a shower, and as I fell asleep.  It was there when I woke up.

That evening Chloe came home from her father's and was kind of douchey.  Before she went to bed I called her out on it and she told me that her father had wanted her to string the lights on the Christmas tree this year and she was super proud to be able to get to do it.  She told me that he proceeded to criticize how she did it and then in the end, in front of her, took down all the lights she had strung and put them back up himself.  She told me she went in the bathroom to cry and he picked on her.  His obligation as a parent is to nurture and love her.  His obligation is to take care of her.

We stood in the hallway having cleared the air and she went to bed more sure of herself and with the knowledge that our tree would be more fun and less stressful.

Later that night, Michael and I had a few beers and started talking.  I talked about what Vicki had said and about what happened to Chloe.  I told him I am at the point in my job where I hate going there.  I feel on edge and burnt out and brimming with compassion fatigue.  Michael was good enough to remind me that there must be something wrong with me, because the conditions at my job hardly ever change and that he notices sometimes when I am centered and feeling strong the job never matters, but when something is wrong, it matters a lot.

I sat there with it trying not to cry in the bar.

I love this man so much.  He never lets me fall on my face or take for granted that I have all the control in the world over how I see and move through the universe.  I feel lost and I am not sure why. I do know that I have jumped on the wheel of samsara again and so here I spin around and around getting no where.  It might just be time to jump off again and find a place to sit.

Catch Me If You Can, I'm the Gingerbread Man

Aleathia says:

My first ever 5k race is quickly approaching.  This summer I started out with a couch to 5k program because for my whole life, even as a kid, I did not like running.  Why bother to run you ask?  This is a great question.

I had to think about it for a long time.  Why after a lifetime of not running do I want to start running at age 42?  I think there were a lot of subversive reasons for starting.  So many of my co-workers run and go off to events with each other.  They have this whole other life that I was not included in because I didn't run.  Most of the time I am not a joiner.  I have been a go at my own pace, loner type person for a long time.  Deep down like every other human in the world, I desire to belong to something.  I want acceptance.  I want to fit in.  Also as I age I am beginning to find that I am facing potential health problems that if not taken care of now, will render me pretty poor in the future.

I have rheumatoid arthritis, a thyroid problem, an ovarian problem, and a weight problem.  This combination creates pain of all kinds, blood pressure problems, and systemic stresses.  I hate taking medication and with all of these problems the medicines have started to find their way into my life and my body.  Frankly, it gives me the creeps.  I know, I work in the healthcare field, and maybe this is why it bothers me so much.  I see people younger than me who have just let life go and are on 20 medications.  It isn't the life I want to set before me.

I also wanted to prove something to myself.  For years I have told myself that I CAN'T run.  I'm too old or too fat or too arthritic.  This is not the attitude I was raised to have.  This is not the attitude I want to raise my daughter with.....if it's too hard, just give up.  This is not an option.

When I started running I was afraid of many things.  I was afraid I would have a stroke.  I was afraid of pain.  I was afraid people would judge me.  I was afraid to be secretly made fun of.  I was afraid of giving up under the pressure of it all.  But something amazing happened.

My running family at work is just that....a family.  Never once did they look at me funny when I started running.  Every one of them was there to encourage me to keep going, to keep trying.  I have lacked this sort of faithful encouragement my whole life.  If you look at me, I am not a runner, but never did the seasoned runners at work say a bad word.  If anything, they gave me hope.

Runners are a different breed of human.  They have to love and hate themselves at the same time because running hurts.  You use muscles you never knew you had.  The pain is sometimes so unbearable yet I find myself saying "one more block" or "five more minutes" because that is what Michelle would do or Stephanie would do or Karen would do.  They have been my champions. They have helped me fall in love with something that is teaching me about my own body, about my strengths and weaknesses, about my mental health, and how to be together with a history of people while still being very alone.

When I run, no matter where I run, people say things like "keep it up" or "great job".  It makes me want to push harder and achieve more.  It gives me a strength of spirit that I never expected.  Every run is a learning experience.  Every run I find my groove, sort of like Stella, but in a different way.

The Selfless Elf 5K is to benefit the Food Bank of the Southern Tier and as of today it has over 800 runners signed up.  We will be running to feed the people of our community and I can't think of a better thing to run for.  If you run or walk, you can still sign up to participate.

Richard Renaldi, Photographer

Aleathia says:

A week or so ago something ran through my FB feed.  You know how it goes...a constant stream of videos and meems and political opinions.  Mostly I skip over things if I look at all anymore.  It can be a complete mind suck at times.  However, there was a video posted from a major news network about a photographer named Richard Renaldi who went around the country taking pictures of strangers, together.

The concept is to place two or more complete strangers walking down the street in a photo together and have it seem as if they know each other.  The anxiety around this concept is palpable to me.  I can put myself in their places and understand what it must be like to put all of your beliefs and values...all your prejudices aside for a few moments and take this picture.

Many times these articles don't stick with me long enough to bring them to you.  Many times it is only momentarily inspiring, fleeting.  But I have been thinking about these photos, about these people and thought it would be something more people should see.

Richard Renaldi is a Chicago native who obtained a BFA in Photography from New York University. He has had his work shown all over the world and this year he was named a John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Fund Fellow.  You can visit his website for a listing of his shows and access to more of his collections.

Now I am proud to present some of Richard Renaldi's photographs from "Touching Strangers":

Andrea and Lillie, Chicago, 2013

Annalee and Rayqa, San Francisco, 2012

Chris and Amaira, Chicago, 2013

Ekeabong and Andrew, Venice, 2013

Elaine and Arly, New York, 2012

Hunter, Margaret, and Abigail, New York, 2013

Tari, Shawn, and Summer, Los Angeles, 2012

Every Road Has An Ending, poem

Every Road Has An Ending

Early morning rain spreads a sheen
over the new blacktop the city laid down
this summer after digging gas lines
through the neighborhood.

It smells of wet leaves
and mushrooms,
of endings and church bells,
of memories best left in the ground.

My legs move me up the hill,
heavy and tired, but still finding
the electrical impulses to fly one foot
ahead of the other. I feel all my years
on this earth in the bones of my grinding right hip.

I'm surrounded by gold leaves
and the sun warms the back of my head
without asking. The hills come alive for a minute,
surfacing beneath clouds that threaten
more rain and this makes me think of you.

You who've I've not consciously brought to mind in months,
you who I can't find in my heart to forgive for both living and dying,
for you who has left me in limbo one last time.

My nose runs and my eyes water
captured here, sun warmed and heart cold,
waiting for the winter gray that will swallow me
whole
again
and keep me from living in the moments
that matter most.

Aleathia Drehmer 2015

Spinning Wheels

Aleathia says:

This Sunday was a hard shift...busy and acute and short handed, but this is nothing new.  Night shift is notorious for doing more with so much less.  Those of us who brave it, who commit to the lifestyle understand we are a different breed of human.  We sleep when the sun is up (if we sleep at all), we are bossy and courageous, we hardly get time to eat or go to the bathroom, and we often laugh away the pain we feel every second we are at work.  It is hard to explain to day people...to "normal" folk because it is something you have to live.  It sinks into your bones and replicates.

When I set out to be a nurse I had a plan for myself.  I started on the night shift because it was available and because I decided it afforded me the most time with my child.  I would miss the sleeping hours and the school hours.  For the last 12 years this has worked for me, but as my body gets older and my patience a little shorter, I find it harder and harder to work the shift.  I love the ER and I have really put my blood, sweat, and tears into the place.  My mind is always cranking out ideas on how we could make it better and more efficient....how it could be a better place for everyone that works there.

In the last few months, there was talk of maybe adding an assistant manager to the unit and that position would encompass much of the work I already do for my boss outside of my job duties.  I have loved doing this extra work because it meant I was helping my manager who really wants great things for us and it gave me a sense of passion about moving forward.  In my mind, I know I could do this position.  I have certain strengths that would elevate what my manager is already doing.  I have a certain gift for organization and numbers, but this morning, reality set in.

The position requires the person to be an RN, preferably a BSN, or on the degree track with attainment in a set amount of time.  I knew this a month ago, but I really had pulled the wool over my own eyes thinking the world was a different place and that the experience, passion, and groundwork already achieved would be enough.  It isn't.

It sort of crushed me today to realize that what I have to offer doesn't mean anything to upper management because I don't have a string of letters behind my name.  I could get a degree, but I don't want it just to make someone else happy.  I also don't want to be on the fast track to run the unit.  In this phase of my life I want to be working towards more time with my family, not less.  I cried a little today understanding that my inherent gifts can't be validated.

I have never been the one to fit in anyway.  I have been on the fringe of everything for my lifetime. I'm generally an observer and this time I threw myself out into the center ring.  Sometimes you have to jump.  Sometimes you fall.  My reactionary heart got the best of me today.  I was angry at so many things.  I wanted to quit my job.  I wanted to stop doing all the extra things I do and I still might.  I miss taking care of patients.  I miss having that little section of the unit that is my bubble and I can concentrate on giving great care instead of running around trying to keep the unit together.

I just want to have a full life...not full of just one thing over the other, but a well rounded and loving life.  In the end, as much as I would have wanted that position, it is a blessing to not be in the running for it.  This means I get to jump off the wheel a bit and keep focus on what truly matters....love and life and my two best people in the world who never let me down.

I Am A Mother of a Teenage Daughter...and I Love It.

Aleathia says:

Holy Hannah!  It has been over a month since I posted, but not without great reason.  Life has been happening people, lots and lots of life.  I have been taking online courses to further my education at work.  They aren't official classes in the sense I get credit for them, but what does that matter anyway if I learn and retain the knowledge?  Does it only count if I have a piece of paper?  Wouldn't it count more if I could actually use the knowledge at work and share it with others?

I am still running, or what I call running, despite a few muscle strains.  I run when I tell myself I can't.  I run when I want to and when I need to.  I don't go more than 2 miles most of the time, but each time I run more of that 2 miles is running rather than walking which I find to be an accomplishment.

We have been having dog problems of the worst kind.  Diarrhea in the house...repeatedly, which leads to anger which leads to the ugliest part of me pushing to the surface.  It really has showed me how easy it is to lose my compassion in the face of samsara.  I can hear myself yelling over things the dog cannot control.  I feel myself have guilt, but still not shut my mouth.  I had to go running the one day to think about things.  Marshall was abandoned and then imprisoned and we saved him.  It took him a long time to really trust that we were going to keep him.  It took a long time to show the physical extent of his separation anxiety which in the beginning was howling and a bit of pacing.  It is now full on loss of bodily functions.  Part of me wanted to take the easy road and take him back to the pound.  The other part of me understands what it is like to be abandoned and yelled at all the time for things you don't understand.  All he knows is that we are his pack and he is lonely when we aren't here.  I get that.  I am lonely when my family isn't around either.  So, we (more me) have come up with a plan: more activity, probiotics, and less vocalization one way or the other about good and bad. Bad attention is still attention as far as he is concerned.  It has been a journey...a messy, stinky journey.

I have been filling my life with work and sewing and reading and crafts.  It seems like there is not enough time in the day to squeeze all this life in.  In addition to that I am still trying to be a great girlfriend and a great mom.  I'm trying to not burn out at work, but feeling less successful at that then all the rest.  I have been doing the same thing for the last 8 years with the only change being it is getting busier and more stressful.  People are leaving and moving on.  I just don't want to get bitter in my job.  I love what I do, it is just overwhelming most of the time.

Which brings me to the topic of conversation....teenage daughter.  I have to tell you that through all the years I have heard mothers bitch about teenagers and how horrible it is to parent them.  I tried my best when I was a teenager to be good.  I am sure I added a few gray hairs to my mother's head, but for the most part I was good.  I worked, got good grades, didn't drink or do drugs, was involved in plays and choirs and sports, and I did volunteer work.  I had a messy room, but I did chores and at one point was a caregiver to my infirmed mother at the age of 14 when no one else would help.  In essence, I didn't have time to be a teenager.  I went from kid to adult, but it suited me for the most part.  I was always older and quieter in my heart.

I have spent all of Chloe's life trying to raise her with respect, honesty, kindness, and individuality. These were things not given to me as a child.  I was given fear, authority, loneliness, and a be like everyone else attitude.  I never had a voice or an opinion.  Chloe is different from the other kids at school.  She knows she is and in the beginning I thought she may have had a social disorder.  She had all the signs on paper, but in the end it was a case of late blooming.  She is turning into this wonderful young lady who is respectful, kind, smart, funny, and sometimes eager to move on to bigger and better things.  Michael has been a great influence on the shaping of my little girl.  He was and always will be the "cool kid" that I never was and has such a way of presenting the world that makes Chloe take notice.  She looks up to him and I love that.

I love this time in her life where she is blooming and growing and discovering what it is she wants out of life when she leaves here.  In history class, she has to pick current event topics and the things she chooses makes me proud...makes me know that she is listening when we have our dinner talks about what is going on in the world.  Most of all I am happy that she loves talking to me and sharing her world with me honestly and openly.  She gives me the opportunity to share my life experiences with her in a way that might influence how she makes decisions for her own future.  I have always been brutally honest with her and in my heart I feel like she respects me for that.

In a time when so many of my friends are having horror stories to share about their teenagers, I feel lucky and blessed and so happy that I made the choices I did when she was younger.  It is always a risk.  You never know if how your captain the ship will end in stormy weather or not.  I hope we stay the course and keep moving forward in positive ways.  Life isn't perfect and she makes mistakes, but I always tell her that it is the mistakes we make that give us the best opportunity to learn if we have the courage to look at it that way.  We are not perfect.  That is such an unattainable idea, but we do have in us the ability to give the best we can do right now.  Life is an ever changing journey.  There is a rotation between ups and downs and we have to not get too lost in either of them so that we see the wonder there is in both.

9/7/2015 Run, Run as Fast as You Can

Aleathia says:

Wow.  It has been a long time since I have posted something and an even longer time since I actually fired up the computer and not my phone.  Summer has been interesting.  It has mostly been filled with sewing, sprinkled with television and gardening, and enjoying my family.  But most interestingly is that I have started running.

(crickets)

I KNOW!

I have never been a runner.  I have been the girl with the art pad or the book in the corner watching other people play sports or do what normal kids do.  It isn't that I don't like to play sports or be active, but that I have always been a bit lacking in the grace department as well as the confidence department.   This makes sports a bit awkward.

Most of the girls at work partake in running....they do half and full marathons, they run 5K's, they run the Ragnar, they get muddy at the Warrior.  I see all of the pictures and I think about the fun I am missing, about the friendships I am not building because I am sitting at home.  I feel left out.

I know that running is a strange sport.  You are the only one who can make yourself move forward, yet you can run in groups while still maintaining your own individual mountain to climb.  Running has scared me on so many levels with failure being on the top of the list...embarrassment very closely behind.  So why did I chose to start it?

My life has been littered with deaths in the last 5 years, as I have mentioned before, and most recently my step-father was killed in an accident.  Both he and my mother induced the most amount of fear in me in my life.  They made me want to hold back.  Now they are both gone and I realize that I don't have to fear them and most importantly I don't have to fear life.

I set out to use the couch to 5K app on my phone.  I thought I would try it.  If I failed at it, at least I wasn't too afraid to try.  At least I didn't give up on myself before I started like I usually do.  I completed my third run yesterday.  My legs didn't fall off.  I didn't have an asthma attack.  I didn't feel embarrassed about the way my extra weight shimmies with every foot fall.  This alone is a personal accomplishment.

I won't lie, the runner's high is pretty awesome and the way my muscles burn makes me feel more alive than anything I have done in a long time.  My goal is to run the Selfless Elf 5K in December with the rest of my ER girls.  It is hard to visualize me running it based on where I am right now, but I am going to do it.  I have to do it.  Just for me.