Journal of Nursing Jocularity

Journal of Nursing Jocularity

Posts Tagged 'stickability'

The In ‘N Outpatient by Kris Harty

“Maybe I’m an exception to the ‘rolling stone gathers no moss’ adage.”

I’m feeling pretty darn moss-covered myself some days, especially when work and life seem to be rolling downhill. It’s overwhelming at times. It happens far more often than I’d like. Needless to say, I’m a mite suspicious of the proverb about a rolling stone gathering no moss.

Prove it.

The faster the downward tumble speeds up at a breakaway pace, the more moss  - the more yuck, the more issues – I seem to accumulate. I can’t shake it. Its fuzziness is annoying. Get this stuff off me!

Perhaps that wasn’t the original intent of the phrase. Still, I beg to differ with it – as sometimes seems to be my nature.

Do you ever feel that way, about the rolling downhill part? That life is rolling along at its own merry clip, and all you can do is attempt to merely match the same pace, while all the while gunk is building up on you, instead of falling away, off to the side, where it belongs?

I’ve felt that way in the past as a patient, I sometimes feel that way as a professional, and I certainly feel that way in my personal life.

My neighbor Jeanette and I meandered onto the topic of overwhelmingness this weekend. She’s the busy mom of two young boys whom she homeschools and the mom of one husband – who, of course, she doesn’t.

Although we live lives that are more dissimilar than similar, we both feel it. The ‘it’ being the weight of all we carry, all we’re responsible for, all that the world throws at us. It’s never-ending and no matter how much we do, more keeps getting added to the list.

In the midst of our commiseration, Jeanette stopped me when she offered a game-changer, a brain-changer. She said, “We can’t stop from rolling downhill. We can only learn to roll downhill better.”

Ooooh.

Huh.

She’s right. We can’t stop more and more stuff – activities, obligations, requirements, messes, muck and miscellaneous – from entering our lives. But we can determine that we’ll handle them all better. We’ll learn to juggle. Not by juggling nine pointy knives at one time, but by juggling two or three soft foam-like balls.

No rush to learn or perfect the craft. We’ve been dealing with green muck attaching itself to us all our lives. It’ll take a little while to intentionally step back, take a breath, and figure out how to deal with the muck that needs to be dealt with, and how to apply muck-repellant for that which doesn’t.

Identifying the muck and green moss that we don’t need to put up with in our lives is half the battle. Once we learn to identify it and handily repel it so it doesn’t stick to us, our downhill roll will be much less encumbered. Less overwhelming. Much more freeing.

We might even be able to relax and enjoy the ride – sans our green mossy selves.

The Short Chick with the Walking Stick’s upcoming book celebrates professional caregivers as the StickSpirits they are. For four decades, they’ve helped Kris Harty Stick To It – No Matter What! Kris provides a patient’s perspective that is educational, inspirationa, and insightful. Part memoir, part application, Kris helps student nurses, newer nurses and not-so-newer nurses remember why they joined their giving profession in the first place. She shares how they positively impact patients’ lives, with minimal time and effort. Kris is the Thought Leader on People Helping People Persevere. She leads the conversation regarding Patient Relationships and Quality of Care from the patient perspective. A 40-year veteran of the medical industry – on the receiving end, Kris Harty is the Stickabilities Specialist at Strong Spirit Unlimited. If you’re looking for an effortless and meaningful way to lead your team toward continued quality caregiving, contact Kris. Call 877.711.STIC(K), email Infot@StrongSpiritUnlimited.com, or visit  www.StrongSpiritUnlimited.com.

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The In ‘N Out Patient by Kris Harty

The eyes have it.

As in, the signs of aging. Or should that be the sighs of aging?  *sigh*

Looking in the mirror, I wonder where my old face went. Rather, my young face. I see where my present face is going – South. Along with the rest of my parts.

Eventually, I expect them collectively to gather and party at the South Pole. No invitation needed. They seem to instinctively gravitate to that end of the world, and at the same time.

Sigh. I miss my collagen.

I remember sitting at a bar with a friend 16 years ago. Doug used to guess people’s ages at carnivals. He guessed mine to the year. Of course, there were far fewer years to guess from at that time.

Doug didn’t know me that well. Even at 30, most people guessed me to be much younger than I was. What was his trick?

The eyes. More specifically, the skin around the eyes. It told him everything he needed to know.

I don’t recall that there were all that many telltale signs embedded in my ocular tissues back then. Nonetheless, he saw enough to know.

He’d have a heyday now with all the signage, blinking away in neon green.

At a yearly exam a handful of years ago, my ophthalmologist dared mention the ‘b’ word. That’s right. Bifocals.

I stared at him – creases, wrinkles, line-age and all. “No.”

“Suit yourself. Your eyes aren’t too bad yet, but eventually you’ll need them.”

“And if I don’t get them? Am I damaging my eyes?”

Laughs. “No. Apparently, just your pride, if you do get them. When you get tired of inconveniencing yourself, let me know. We’ll get you set up.”

He couldn’t let the age thing go.

“A lot of my patients your age struggle, mentally, with going into bifocals. The progressive lenses these days make it fairly seamless. But then, for my patients who color their hair…”

He leans in closer for a good look…

“…hmmm, they struggle with bifocals more, too. You’ve got a nice crop of grey hairs coming in up top.”

He was relishing this conversation far too much. “Do you antagonize all your female patients, or am I special?”

Laughs, again. “I’m equal opportunity. And they keep coming back.”

“It’s definitely not because of your charm.”

About the same time, my hairdresser got in on the act. Did I have a sign hanging from one of my forehead furrows?

“Honey, you can try plucking out all your greys, like you said, but then there won’t be any hair left for me to cut.”

Rude, rude, I tell ya. What is it about the world reminding a woman that she’s turning 40, when she’s trying so hard to be content in her denial?

I’m a few years past that now, well settled into my progressives, and happily choosing the next shade of color. In honor of Fall, I think a rich auburn will do nicely.

It’ll compliment my crow’s feet beautifully.

Stickability Specialist Kris Harty helps healthcare teams persevere through Compassion Fatigue. Kris is Chief Inspiration Officer of Strong Spirit Unlimited. By sharing Stickabilities, or tools, she learned from her own medically challenging life requiring a Walking Stick, Kris encourages healthcare professionals to Stick to it – no matter what! Diagnosed at age seven with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis, she draws on 40 years of insight, research and stories as a healthcare recipient. She is the patient who now returns to say “You make a difference. Thank you.” Her message is content-rich, practical, engaging and inspiring – and sporadically funny. Kris reduces burnout, turnover, and Compassion Fatigue by re-engaging healthcare professionals, particularly nurses. Kris Harty is an inspirational keynote speaker, author and small group facilitator who helps people overcome challenges by creating unstoppable momentum in life and work. Clients say her message is life changing. Call 877.711.STICK, e-mail StrongSpirit@StrongSpiritUnlimited.com, or visit  www.StrongSpiritUnlimited.com.

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The In ‘N Out Patient by Kris Harty

And now, for the concluding episode of Car vs Medical Parking Lots.

Last week, our story ended when a neon orange sticker appeared on the window of my rental car, while in the x-ray office’s parking lot.

My own car was in the shop. A few days prior, the hospital valet backed into my car while I was at a pre-op appointment.

Building security was patrolling the morning of my x-rays. Not seeing the handicap placard in full view on the dashboard (a result of the hangy part breaking off in cold weather), security issued an orange sticker warning for illegally parking in a handicap parking space.

And I was so proud of myself for remembering to move the placard from my car to the rental, just for this reason.

Not wanting to drive across town while fluorescing orange, I began peeling off the sticker. Gloved hands do not peel stickers well, and ungloved hands get mighty cold in zero degree temps. The sticker would stay, at least for now.

The rental car slip-slided across town to my house. I made it - until I reached my uber-slopey driveway. My only chance to make it up the icy slide was to gun it. The garage door needed to be open.

I reached for the garage door opener in its usual place on the visor. GONE.

I forgot to transfer it from my car to the rental. AUGGGGGG. (Your choice of words here.)

All I needed to do was enter my house from the front door and open the garage door from inside.

Piece o’cake.

I threw the car door open against the gale. Precariously, I trudged my way through snowdrifts to the front door. I attempted to turn the key.

The deadbolt was dead. The colder the temperature, the more stubborn it gets.

More expletives. There seems to be a pattern here.

Now what?

Aha! I could call my neighbor Tammy. She recently house-sat for me and learned the finer points of unlocking my stubborn deadbolt.

Could I really call her in this weather? Was there another option? Nope.

Being fabulous, Tammy immediately drove to my house, rescuing me from my snowy fate.

Turning the deadbolt took all the strength she had, which is fortunately much more than mine.

We’re in! Woo hoo!

After the rental was safely in my garage, my attention again turned to the glaring orange sticker on the window. Pfft.

This was a job for Gooey Gone.

Gooey Gone is effective. Gooey Gone is stinky. Good thing the stink could air out for 24 hours before the car needed to be returned. The rental company might not appreciate the sticker or the stench.

The great thing about snow in Colorado Springs is that it doesn’t last long, which is exactly the way snow should be.

Roads were clear the next day. Sticker stink was gone.

My own car was pristine again, my surgeon received my x-rays, and all was right with the world. Other than my newly developed fear of medical parking lots.

Stickability Specialist Kris Harty helps healthcare teams persevere through Compassion Fatigue. Kris is Chief Inspiration Officer of Strong Spirit Unlimited. By sharing Stickabilities, or tools, she learned from her own medically challenging life requiring a Walking Stick, Kris encourages healthcare professionals to Stick to it – no matter what! Diagnosed at age seven with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis, she draws on 40 years of insight, research and stories as a healthcare recipient. She is the patient who now returns to say “You make a difference. Thank you.” Her message is content-rich, practical, engaging and inspiring – and sporadically funny. Kris reduces burnout, turnover, and Compassion Fatigue by re-engaging healthcare professionals, particularly nurses. Kris Harty is an inspirational keynote speaker, author and small group facilitator who helps people overcome challenges by creating unstoppable momentum in life and work. Clients say her message is life changing. Call 877.711.STICK, e-mail StrongSpirit@StrongSpiritUnlimited.com, or visit www.StrongSpiritUnlimited.com.

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The In ‘N Out Patient By Kris Harty

Some people have an ideal weight. Some have an ideal height. Because you only know me from my writing and not in person, I could happily tell you I’m at my ideal height of 5’8”. Alas, that’s a foot and two inches away from reality. But a girl can dream.

Picture this. Surgery #7 had me in the usual big ol’ adult-size hospital bed, which makes sense as the peds floor kicked me out a few decades ago. (more…)

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The In ‘N Out Patient by Kris Harty

We haven’t met before, yet you know me well.

You know me so well that you sometimes know me better than I know myself. You know intimate details about me that those closest to me might not know. And maybe never should.

I’m not fully aware of all you do for me (as I’m sometimes heavily sedated), but I can tell you that you make a difference in my life.

I’m not as appreciative as I could be. I’m not a great partner in this relationship. Did I say ‘great partner?’ Pfft. I’m barely a good partner. Take, take, take – that’s me. Much of the time, I’d rather not be in this relationship at all. Nothing personal.

You put up with my moodiness. Some days, I’m downright rude and nasty. Do you complain or return my nastiness? Nooooo. You might want to, but you don’t. Instead, you continue to be the professional you are and help me however you can.

Who the heck puts up with the kind of stuff I dish? In most any other relationship, I’d suggest you get out now!

But I’m so grateful you don’t. I’m so thankful you stay. (more…)

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