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Congratulations, Samantha! You’ve been accepted….

Isn’t it funny how life can change in an instant? When you have all these plans set out to accomplish that you’ve spent years studying for and preparing for and then you don’t do them? When you make a complete 180 in your life with no plans or ideas for the future?  Many of you know that for the past 7 years I’ve been planning and preparing to go to CRNA school. I have worked in the right units, I received the correct certifications and I even got an interview to my number one school of choice.  I had had my first dream of re-activation to my LDS faith when I found out I didn’t get accepted into the school. I was sad, I was hurt, but more than anything I was confused. Wasn’t this what God wanted for me? Wasn’t this a righteous desire? Wasn’t this what I had worked so hard for? I questioned the existence of God that night. I prayed, “Heavenly Father, are you really there?” What came was a small voice that said, “Sam, you know I am here. I have always been and I always will be.”...
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O God, Where art Thou?

I grew up in the LDS faith. I was blessed as a baby, baptized at 8 years old and served a mission at 21. I attended Brigham Young University-Idaho and there I met my husband, and we were married and sealed in the Salt Lake temple. Typical, straight-as-a-lace, Mormon.  Until I wasn't.  In a previous post I wrote about being bipolar and how I had signs and symptoms of this disorder in high school. Accompanied with that was a lot and I mean, A LOT of anxiety. Especially separation anxiety. This paired with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome made me a perfect candidate (NOT) to go on an 18-month mission to Nashville, TN away from my family and my doctors. Granted, I hadn't been officially diagnosed with either of these disorders, so I looked good on paper.  I lasted 8 months. 8 months before my body said enough was enough. 8 months before my mind said enough was enough. At the time, you could only email your family once a week for 1 hour. I would SOB at the library computer when my hour ...
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Time of Death: 2259

Time of death: 2259 The words you never want to hear. They are still ringing in my ears. Angels were present in the room when one of our patients slipped from this mortal life.  It was unexpected. And we did everything we could.  Don't tell me it's part of the job. Don't tell me it's what I signed up for. Don't tell me to choose a different career then.  You clearly haven't seen the light from someone's eyes fade, feeling for a pulse that isn't there, running for the code cart begging God for the recollection of all your training to direct you on what to do.  You clearly haven't heard the words that stop the hurrying or the stillness there is once we stop.  You clearly haven't seen a doctor stare off into space contemplating how to make the life changing phone call.  You clearly haven't seen a wife, a daughter, a son crumple at the sight of their souless loved one, planning a funeral instead of Christmas dinner.  I am grateful. Grateful for m...
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A Lemon Car

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I was told by my doctor growing up that my body was a "lemon car."  According to Carfax, a lemon car is one that has " a substantial defect that the automaker can’t fix within a reasonable amount of time".  Every 14-year-old's dream to be. A lemon car.  I was born with a connective tissue disorder called Ehler's Danlos Syndrome. But we wouldn't know that until I was in my early 20's. My entire childhood was filled with doctor's visits and different offices and specialists, from physical therapists to gastroenterologists. Putting out little fires, so to speak, without knowing an eternal flame was lit within my very DNA.  As mentioned in a previous post, I started physical therapy when I was in the first grade to help with unstable ankles. It was there that my physical therapist said that I would need physical therapy for the rest of my life. I have seen physical therapists in California, Utah, Idaho and Tennessee for various joints and ligaments. ...
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Surgeries, Surgeries, Surgeries (And More Surgeries)

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On the first day of surgery my surgeon said to me.... something in French that I didn't understand and I realized I should just relax and let the medication take effect.  Little did I know, this surgery would be the first of many.  It all started when I was about 6 years old. I was on a mini soccer team and my ankles had started to roll. Like a lot. My shoulders also were loosey goosey and would pop in and out of socket, especially when I swam. So, my doctor put me into physical therapy and said I was just "double jointed" and "extra flexible".  I remember being at physical therapy and the therapist knew more than she let on. She said, "you will have to do physical therapy for the rest of your life". That shook my world as a mere 6-year-old.  And she was right. Jump to when I was 16 and playing volleyball in high school. One day after practice I noticed my ankles hurting and they were really swollen. Like, "you have heart failure and have eaten to...
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If You Only Knew

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I am not a stranger to the dark.  To the feelings of drowning, plummeting down, down, down into the deepest depths.  I have Bipolar Depressive Disorder, Type II. This means I have severe changes in mood that lasts days to weeks. Some think it is an "on/off" button that changes your mood throughout the day. That's more like BPD. I have hypomanic episodes and depressive episodes. Just like everyone's fingerprints are different, my bipolar disorder is unique to me. When not on medications, I have long periods of depressive episodes that can last up from weeks to months. Hypomanic episodes happen every week to once a month. You know that amazing movie "A Beautiful Mind" starring Russell Crowe? Although not entirely true to the nature of mental illnesses, it touched me. I related to the feelings of losing my mind without medications, but also losing my mind  with them. During my hypomanic episodes I felt free. Not only did I not feel sad anymore, I had energy and...
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Never, Never, Never Give Up

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  Hellooooo and welcome to my first official blog post! As you have seen, the title of this blog is never, never, never give up. Not one, not two, but THREE nevers. Why? Because it's on a decoration I got at Hobby Lobby that hangs in my office, featured below. BUT ALSO, because sometimes we want to give up on our dreams after the first, and sometimes second failure. Don't give up; be a damn legend.  I started nursing school with a 2 year-old and a 1 year-old in Blanding, Utah via a satellite program through Utah State University. It was HARD. I missed my baby's first words and first steps because I chose to be in school. Does it make me sad? Yes. Do I regret it? Not one bit. It was early on in nursing school that I knew there was something more to nursing than being a bedside nurse. I wanted to reach the top of the nursing ladder. I barged into Cooper's office at the time and told him just that. So, we researched and learned about a nurse anesthesiologist. I got chills....
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