april 10 sucks

sometimes, i have days like today. where no matter how fast the world is moving around me, I feel like I have been standing still, unable to move and breath and talk and laugh. 9 years ago I was a freshman in high school. On April 10, 2002 after school I hopped in my friends Erin's car. My mom called before we even shifted out of park and told me that I would be grounded if I didn't go pick up my little sister from piano lessons. I argued for a little bit, and finally got into my own car and agreed to meet Erin at my house after I picked up Kalli and she picked up her brother, Josey. We had a bay window in our old house, and once I got home I was sitting in it anxiously waiting for Erin to come.

The home phone started ringing. I answered. It was my friend and teammate Danae. She asked if I was ok. "umm... yeah...?" was all I could get out. Then she said, "Ok, well if you need anything let me know." I hung up. "That was weird." Kalli was downstairs watching TV, probably Full House or Saved By The Bell. The phone rang again. This time it was Dee Shaffer, one of my closest friend's mothers. "Kim. Is your mom home?" she said, nervously. "No... she's at work. Why?" "Ok it is very important I need her number." My heart dropped. "What's going on?" I asked. "There's been an accident and I need to talk to your mom." I gave her the number and started crying. I didn't even know what was going on but could tell that something was terribly wrong. Almost as soon as I hung up, my cell phone rang. "Kim, are you OK?" said the female voice on the other end. "Who is this?" I said, trying to fight my tears, "And what is going on?" it was another teammate from basketball, "Well I just heard that there was a car accident and someone from your class was killed." I hung up the phone. Only 3 of us freshman drove. Me, Erin and Danny. All 3 of us were transfer students from public school, and those 2 were basically my only friends besides the basketball team. I called my mom. She told me to come to her office. "Kalli, lets go!"

We hopped in the truck and drove down there. My cell phone rang continuously, but I didn't want to talk to anyone. My mom was waiting outside of the hospital for us, and she just hugged me. She told me it was Erin. I don't really remember how I reacted, I just remember feeling overwhelmed with anger. I laid on the dirty hospital floor and cried. And then, it started raining. I went outside and collapsed. I was drenched but was happy to have something to wash all of my emotions away. I yelled at God, I prayed, I apologized for yelling, then I questioned, and apologized for questioning. I cried, and laughed, and didn't know how to react.

My mom came outside and said, "All of your friends are at the Shaffer's. I think you should go over there." I didn't want to go. They wouldn't understand. All of them had each other and had bonded since elementary school. They didn't know Erin, they didn't know me. We weren't "Christian" enough for them because our moms had full time jobs and our dad's didn't come in and say a blessing over us every night even during sleepovers. (Sidenote: I was SO jealous of those families... but that's a whole other post) Erin and I clicked, we both were discovering what it meant to love Jesus, but still be normal and acknowledge that life is messy. She confided in me about her past, her alcohol and drug use, her regrets, how poorly she treated her parents. I promised that I would always go with her to parties so she wouldn't be tempted to drink, and that I wouldn't drink unless she was with me. We bonded over mexican hot chocolates, wearing flip-flops year round (even with nylons on Chapel days, there comes that not "Christian" enough thing again), getting acrylic nails, and laughing over boys. We knew Jesus, but didn't like what he was for some of our friends. He was real for us, and we both credited him for saving us, for Erin from her past and for me it was from a life of searching for answers. I learned from that, even though I didn't experience those things with her just hearing how awful it made her feel was enough for me to know that it wasn't for me, either.

After I could speak, I told my mom that I didn't want to go to the Shaffer's, but she told me that I had to. I got back into the truck and realized I was trembling. "Mom? Can you drive?" She hopped in, and Kalli was in the backseat speechless. I didn't know what to do when I got to the Shaffer's. I was done crying, and I didn't want to go back through the whole curse/apologize to God thing again. The boys were riding Razor scooters in the driveway. Typical, too tough for emotion. I walked inside to a room full of crying classmates and adults who embraced me immediately. I didn't really know what to think, I watched my mom drive away out the window and asked if I could step out.

I wasn't quite ready to hop on a scooter and pretend like everything was fine, but I was so angry with the people who were so judgmental towards Erin. I remember the rumors they spread, "I heard that she had sex with like 6 guys, and that was just last year!" "Oh yeah? Well I saw that she was wearing THONG underwear!" Oh the private school gossip rings. The public school transfers added so much flavor to that school, and I'm so thankful for the experiences we had there, but it was so hard to try and find our fit. But Erin and I had each other, and wore whatever underwear we wanted.

I gave Mrs. Shaffer a hug, and she gave me a box of kleenex. There was a family there that I had only met a few times, the Kahlers. They were both crying and they came over and asked if they could pray for me. The Fischers were there too, among others that I just didn't want to really even see. I took hugs from people, smiled and thanked them for thinking about me. I called Erin's mom and cried. Then I called Ann. Her brother answered the phone, and he must have thought I was crazy because I just immediately started crying as soon as I heard "Hello" on the other end. When Ann called me back I asked if I could spend the night at her house. I went home from the Shaffer's and put some pajamas on and went up to Ann's.

We were in bed, in the dark. I remember fits of tears and giggles, at one point I reached over and poked Ann right in the eye "Eww what was that?" I said and transitioned from tears to laughter. Now, 9 years later, I am sitting in the library feeling my throat constrict, feeling the tears build up in my eyes, about to burst. Ann looks up from her computer and asked "Kim, what are you working on?" "uhh.." I hesitate, trying to not reveal my emotion, "Just my research paper." She could tell something was wrong. "Lets get out of here, I'm done studying." We got up, Ann gave me a hug in the hallway of the library and took me out to dinner. The transition from tears to giggles continues, even today, remembering Erin.

Her laugh was contagious, she had a smile that could light up a room. Her naive questions in science class, her insisting that everyone deserved at least 3 chances to earn her trust, and the way she managed to just understand me. I miss that the most. I think about her family, and how I bet that at some point every single day feels like April 10 for them. Some things I think are just better left to wonder. Like why a 16 year old was taken from us, to start new life in heaven early, but to leave us constantly missing her and overwhelmed with curiosity about what her future would have held. So for now, I'll listen to a mix CD that we made together, and continue the pattern of questioning God, apologizing for questioning, and keep trusting Him to cover me with grace and peace.

Bri and Dan's wedding

Well, as 2011 rolls in, I have realized that I have about a dozen weddings to attend this year, so it seemed fitting to attend the first one in January. Bri and Dan are good friends of mine -- in fact, I introduced them. Long story short, snowboarding and me being overly friendly at youth group is how Dan met Bri. The rest is history.

Bri and Dan are impeccable people. They both have a passion for Christ, they both are silly and energetic, but passionate and self-less. If you are ever in a bind, these are your people who will pull through every time. Unfortunately, another commonality between them is that they both lost their mothers. Dan's mom died when he was young and he was essentially raised by his Grandma, whom we all refer to as "Hammie." Bri's mom Renaye was a radiant gem, and I see so much of her personality shining through Bri. Renaye loved her family, a great pair of shoes, and any sort of adventure she could take on as long as her husband Dave was at her side. I had the pleasure of being a part of their family for a few years during high school, because their family vacations always included friends - even the bigger trips.

Never in my life have I felt so excited for two people to be married. (Maybe my mind will change when I walk down the aisle?) Dan's smile and tears, Bri's flawless charm. Her dress was beautiful, her hair looked incredible, and she had a permanent smile. The ushers stood up against the windows while she walked out so Dan couldn't see her, when they threw the doors open it was a moment that I'm sure everyone who was in the room won't forget any time soon. (Plus, she walked down the aisle to a piano playing Taylor Swift's "Love Story" -- how cute!)

Their wedding was a union of two people who truly deserve the best after all they have overcome and for the example their lives are especially to the kids they volunteer time with on a regular basis. They are a true inspiration and pave the path of perseverance. Their new life together will always reflect love for each other and for Christ and that truly makes me smile just thinking about it.

So weddings of 2011, the bar is set pretty darn high. And Satterfields, congratulations! I love you guys!

back in the ham

for a while, when I left Bellingham I wondered if I would ever be drawn back to this area. I know that I enjoyed the 2 years I spent living here, but until this return trip I didn't fully reflect on all of the things I learned while living here. I have been able to see how much I have grown in several aspects of my life thanks to this place.

I gained independence. I remember crying in my car on the drive out here with my back seat crammed full of possessions. I questioned what the heck I was doing, why I was going so far from home, and hated that I didn't have a passenger to help ease my mind and reaffirm my decision. When I arrived though, I knew that if I survived the drive I was ready to handle whatever else this place would toss at me.

I developed a deeper desire for real relationships. I was forced to get to know people, and more than ever in my life before I was forced to be vulnerable. There were a few people who provided the opportunity for me to share my life with them, and also offered insight, encouragement, and prayer. Through the process of opening up to people, I learned which aspects of my life needed attention. Its sort of beautiful and strange to choose what parts and details you share with basically complete strangers and watch while they become your closest friends.

I learned what areas of my faith were 'blurry' or undefined. Being surrounded by an amazing community of people willing to share and struggle through things is almost unreal. Listening to opinions of other people, Biblically based or not, (Western is a liberal arts school, some of my GURs were far from Biblical, but still contributed to my education) really forced me to realize that there are just some questions that I don't know the answers to. Pointing these areas out was surprisingly...therapeutic...it made my prayer life more valuable and more of a priority. Not only that, but I was also able to tap into the knowledge of others and pick their brains and hear what they thought of things. Anyone who has been to Bellingham can attest for the general "openness" and willingness to not only share opinion, but listen. I was thankful to have genuine friends to listen and help me learn that it was ok to vocalize questions about faith issues. I was also pleased when several of them had similar concerns, and even more 'validated' when i realized that it was alright to not know the answers.

I cooked and baked for some of the most incredible people I will ever meet. I have a burden (or gift, depending how you look at it) of trying new recipes and finding eager stomachs to devour my creations. I also was raised in a family where cooking was a shared responsibility and meal time was where we caught up on each other's lives. But that is beside the point, in Bellingham, especially in the surprisingly small '2-butt' Turtle kitchen, I served meals and desserts and salads and friendship and gained conversations that will stick with me forever.

Another thing I can credit to Bellingham is learning the value of belonging to a church. Mostly, what became clear in Bellingham is that I require recognition and affirmation. What I mean is this: if I am scrubbing the toilets, baking pans of enchiladas, sitting in the same seat every Sunday for months, passing out bulletins, serving communion, and greeting other church members at the door, please don't introduce yourself to me every single Sunday. At least say, "I have seen you before, but I can't remember your name." or something similar. I require a church family that will welcome me and acknowledge me. Maybe that is selfish? An area that needs cleaning up, perhaps. But I definitely learned to value the church family I was developing at the INN and at home at Rimrock.

So thanks Bellingham. Mostly for providing me with this trip and time to reflect and acknowledge these changes in my life. Isn't it funny how God uses struggles to shape us into exactly who he wants us to be? I love looking back at the challenges and praising him for getting me through it, and feeling overwhelmed with gratitude at his abundant grace and omnipotence when he reveals the meaning for certain things. I'm ready for what comes next.

the library.

the library.
typically, I can be found here. usually somewhere on the second floor. sometimes accompanied by a friend, sometimes with headphones and coffee. I sometimes fantasize about how wonderful it would be to have a spontaneous opportunity - like in the movies how it just so happens that all your friends congregate at the same place at the same time and end up doing something really fun and exciting. The library is not the place for that - even though every time I hear footsteps on the stairs, the creaking door open, I can't help but hope for a familiar smile, something to distract me (even temporarily) or someone with a far-fetched idea that would justify leaving this place and forgetting my homework for a while.

sometimes the library is my escape. sometimes i sneak away to the quiet solace, hoping for peace within my heart and a calm to the constant worry of my mind. even if studying is what occupies me and creates stress, at least i'm not thinking about my future, missing the past, or regretting not doing enough in the present. the library provides a place to completely be absorbed in school. sure, there are lots of nerdy engineers here with tables full of paperwork sprawled out and highlighted, the occasional female engineer student, and of course - the infamous wheelie backpacks.

tonight, the library is a chance to spend time meeting God. tonight on the second floor, i have indulged in scripture not out of nightly tradition, or out of guilty obligation, but pure delight. soaking up the words like a dry sponge, anxious to absorbing every word. tonight i am thankfully and undeservingly resting on the promise that my heart is being ferociously protected, nothing will allow separation from my Jesus. not even the library.

I feel refreshed. now its time to get back to the homework i suppose.

medicine...

The other night my desire to work in medicine was challenged. When patients stop breathing, its my time to shine. Normally, I thrive on the energy and adrenaline that comes with the sirens backing in and the paramedics rushing a patient to our ER bed. I quickly and accurately get the patient on our monitors and start chest compressions. Now when you do CPR classes and you are pushing on that little accordion-like piece of plastic tucked in a blue bodied top half of a person who has a mouth stuck open and nostrils so big your finger could fit in, lots of people don't take the course seriously. I remember learning CPR for the first time and thinking "wow... am I really going to have to use this?" How many compressions? Then how many breaths? Am I pushing too fast or too hard? Well the challenge that was rushed into the ER was something I could have never prepared for. When the radio goes off "Regional Hospital, Medic __(insert station # here)___" and we hear no sirens (meaning they are not "running hot") we know its non-emergent and we have time to prepare appropriately, and maybe even have the patient go to the front window and check themselves in. When the sirens are blaring in the background while they are calling report, we sort of buzz around and congregate around the physician listening for our next move. The other night, the call went something like this... "In route to your facility with a 3 week old found unresponsive, we've administered Epi......" I don't even remember the rest. I looked at the ambulance sheet again. 3 weeks? 3 WEEKS old? unresponsive? How is that possible? While we got things ready, I had no idea what I would be in for. The firefighters scooped this precious, innocent, tiny little person struggling for life onto my ER bed.

I took over chest compressions, and we intubated. Immediately we pushed meds. While the ventilator (the machine that breathes for the baby) slowly pushed equal and quick breaths into the lungs of this precious gift from God, I pushed quickly and equally. I remember thinking "2 fingers? or 3?" and "Am I going to quick? Should I speed up?" The doctor said, "Hold compressions, lets look at the rhythm" which repeatedly left us with little to no activity. I started compressions again. The ventilator kept pumping and I could see the baby's chest rise and fall beneath my fingers. His eyes were closed, he was basically lifeless. We stopped to analyze again. Still no real rhythm. I started pushing again. Every time I've had to do compressions, after this amount of time my patients are moving, responding, even if its only minimal. The physician asked the mother for even a hint of explanation. The nurse pushed more meds into this baby who looked like he was completely out of place amongst the giant equipment cords and machines. I kept pushing on the baby. We stopped again. Still no rhythm. I could see tears welling up in the doctor's eyes. Maybe if I pushed with extra meaning? I prayed constantly. "Please God. Pull through for this family. Just a little movement." I heard the physician say to the mother "He has made no effort to breathe on his own in the last 45 minutes." I thought, "gosh has it been 45 minutes already?" Then the doctor continued "the medicine that we have given him is strong, and it works. For some reason, he is not responding to it." I watched the tiny lifeless body being pumped with air and the heart failing to circulate blood even with my fingers trying to do its job for it. Then I heard the doctor say, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." The mother continued to cry, the doctor was crying, the nurse in the room was tearing up a little, and I was a mess. I wrapped the baby in a warm blanket and removed the patches from his tiny chest that were unable to find any remaining source of life. I closed the door to the room, and hung a rose (which is the symbol to notify other staff that the patient in that room has died). I walked into the staff lounge and lost it.

Why am I choosing a career that will challenge me like this? Am I going to spend thousands of dollars on counseling in order to sleep at night after work? Why does God take such innocent, harmless lives with no apparent reason? My heart hurt, and I felt like I got hit by a train. Medicine can do so much. I have seen so many patients who are writhing in pain walk out of the ER with a smile on their face. I have the pleasure to transport patients who are being admitted overnight to their rooms. Yes, sadly, people do die in the ER. And yes, I have been in the room more than once. For some reason, that precious baby boy tugged at my heart. I wanted so badly to be carrying him down the hall with his parents following to a pediatric room for the night. I wanted to hear him cry, see his chubby legs wiggle around, and watch his eyes scan the room.

I was reminded though, that even though losing this baby in the ER was a loss. It was a victory in heaven. That tiny child was taken to the arms of his Eternal Father. I'm sure that I will experience more questions and challenges in medicine, I guess I just never really comprehended how many moments I would face that would make it so hard. Infant CPR is something I never wanted to have to do, especially with the end result that happened that night. I am thankful that the life I count as loss is a gain to Christ's Kingdom.

February Frenzy

Here it is February already! My my, how 2010 has arrived with a whirlwind! Its Super Bowl Sunday, and my stepdad has invited all of his employees at Respec to come watch the game. My mom and I had quite an entertaining night getting the menu prepared last night. We'll see what kind of turn out we actually get though.

School is terribly time consuming, it is (hopefully) worth the hours invested though. It is no walk in the park, I'll tell you that much! There have been moments even in the month that I have been going where I have questioned why I am even doing this, but I think that it is healthy to question things sometimes. It helps keeps me in line a little bit. In addition to the typical 2-3 exams per week, clinical hours, and assignments, I am still working in the ER. I have a few weeks where I have pushed my limits and should have probably not picked up shifts that I did, but somehow my body has become accustomed to only 5-6 hours of sleep and surprisingly I am quite functional. Between school and work, I sometimes want to diagnose people I see in public. My 'medical mind' doesn't shut off sometimes, but that will change with time I hope! I am attempting to maintain somewhat of a social life, but most days that consists of Ann and I grabbing Taco Bell or sitting in the hot tub to recap our day or visiting Karen at work. Our Bible study group of girls hasn't really clicked as well since around Thanksgiving, and I'm not sure why.

Life has been good. A few bumps in the road, but I like the bumps. I'm learning to appreciate how I am being shaped into a better person for glorification of His kingdom and my faith is being strengthened through questions and struggles. Still no facebook, which has honestly not even been tempting yet. I think that I have consumed so much of my time with studying and working that when I do have a spare second I either want to sleep or I'm rallying up for hanging out with friends. I am trying to come up with spring break plans, possibly involving a trip to Sun Valley to see Ali or further west to Seattle/Bellingham -- but we'll see. Until next time!

A new decade, huh?

Well, again - I have neglected my lovely blog for quite some time now. Another year has passed, and 2009 will be a tough year to top. In fact, i don't ever imagine having another year quite as abundant with life-changing experiences. A few that have left more than a mark on my mind are graduating from college, learning one of my closest friends from high school has cancer, helping my parents move, losing a woman to cancer who may have never known how influential she was to the faith and character of so many people whose lives she touched (including mine), experiencing hands on what it means to save a life -- I'm talking a person with no pulse flat line heart rate being rocked back to life and stabilized -- and then seeing that patient walking around a few days later (truthfully, working in the Emergency Room will do that to you).

I have once again deleted facebook in an attempt to force myself to be more intentional at spending time -- QUALITY time -- with my friends and family. I have a feeling that after spending nearly $1000 on books for nursing school my social life will be limited, and I am not willing to settle for catching up facebook style when I could be laughing face to face with people who mean the most to me. I'm sure I will eventually miss knowing what the people who I no longer keep their phone number, or those who live across the country (and even the world) are up to and will reactivate. But until then I am going to stick to my guns.

Even though several people have brought up the whole "what are you doing now?" anxiously awaiting my response to be something along the lines of marriage or landing a great job, I am satisfied living in my parents basement sharing giggles over new recipes (my stepdad's 2010 resolution: learn how to cook. Night #1 was hilarious -- "so what exactly is a medium size sauce pan?" "is there a difference between minced and chopped?" "Why don't we have a measuring spoon that comes teaspoons and tablespoons?" just a few great quotes. He's an engineer, he follows everything to the "fresh parsley for garnish" of a recipe, and we love him for it) helping Kalli curl the back of her hair, trying to show my mom how much we appreciate her and all the things she does to help keep us motivated and encouraged, and running my butt off in the ER a few days a week. While I do miss cooking meals for hungry boys in Bellingham, doing headstands in the Turtle's cozy living room, running errands with Molly, going to the gym with Nicole, trying to keep up with what the heck Ellie is doing, driving around with Gretchen just to talk, and Tuesday nights at the INN, I would say that slowly but surely I'm adjusting and finding more and more to be thankful for.

2010 - I am readily accepting your challenges and blessings, your stumbles and triumphs. I am embracing the grace I will need for my shortcomings, and will constantly strive to live a life that glorifies Christ.