Guess who's back? Back again. Whitney's back. Tell a friend.

JK. Enough Eminem.

But I AM back!!! I haven't blogged in years. For those who have just tripped over this blog, or who have entered, or re-entered my world in the past few years, HI. My name is Whitney. I am a comedy blogger. Or just a regular blogger--depends on the day. 

Re-entry into the blog world for me is both sentimental, and nostalgic. I find writing very therapeutic. I also find my life relatively entertaining. It is also periodically embarrassing. I find joy in exploiting both of those aspects of my life and airing them out to the public for your entertainment. 

As some of you know, I made the career move to start travel nursing just a little over a year ago. I love what I do as a nurse, but I got tired of the corporate politics, and the garbage that came with being a staff nurse. I was tired of the chronic understaffing. I was sick and tired of being hauled into the "principal's office" and being told that I was going to be punished for not taking my breaks--only, we were chronically short-staffed with no one to break me. I was told that it was my job to find someone to break me, but, as luck would have it, I don't know how to make competent nurses materialize out of thin air to give breaks. I kind of suck that way as a normal human. 

Then Covid hit. We were then chronically short-staffed, and up in the face of a deadly virus. I finally decided to pull the plug and play the travel nurse card. No more staff meetings. No more trips to the principal's office to be reprimanded for slave labor working. I was done. ✌ OH...and big money.

OFF TO THE WORLD OF TRAVEL NURSING!!!

I took my first travel nursing contract in San Jose, California. It was awesome. I loved it. I got to learn new things. I made new friends. I got to travel and see some amazing new things. I took trips to Monterey, and Carmel. I was making a ridiculous amount of money for all of my (ahem) trouble. Some people say, "When God closes a door, somewhere He opens a window." Uh, NO. God slammed that door on staff nursing (and put some stank on it...with a Z-snap), and He opened a tunnel for a freight train--and breathed life back into my nursing career. I am very grateful. 

My second travel contract was in Sacramento, California. I was still in the process of figuring out how I wanted to go about housing, and having a vehicle for my contract. I decided to drive up to SAC, leave my car there, rent a place that specifically catered to travel nurses, and then fly home on my days off, and rent a car when I go back down to L.A. 

Hindsight is 20/20, but I look back on those poor choices and wonder what I was actually thinking. I rented a room in a 4-bedroom house, with 3 other travel nurses. The house was lovely. The nurses were not tidy. AND...I had to share a bathroom.

 I feel like you reach an age where that really shouldn't even be a thing. Like, I am at that age. 

Anyway, I am setting the scene for how I ended up in Sacramento, and subsequently breaking my face in a stupid/rogue accident. Hence the title of this blog, "I DO ALL MY OWN STUNTS".

It was pretty epic,

A little history. I am a klutz. I blame the fact that I have these crazy long legs, and a short torso. Some people who know me are probably like, "Your legs are GOALS!!!" Even my children say that. However, they are SO LONG, and my torso is SO SHORT (like, Bambi gets me). I am this tall girl who gets into cars, and then can barely see over the steering wheel. When I was dating my ex-husband, I borrowed his car one day, a mutual friend saw me driving down the road, and told him that a 10-year old had stolen his vehicle. I can't make this 💩 up.

I digress...

So...I was staying up in SAC. I am a night shift nurse. My days/nights are never normal. I am constantly trying to live in two worlds--day, and night. Consequently, something's got to give. I have tossed around the idea of becoming a day shift nurse, but it is hard to want to. The pay is less. AND...there is a very different vibe between the day shift nurse, and the night shift nurse. Hard to explain, but it's a real thing. Anyway...

So, I was up in SAC. I had this trip to Napa Valley planned on my days off. I booked and amazing resort. I had wine tasting on the brain. I was READY!!!

Because I work nights, it means that I get off of work on my day off. I usually leave work by 7:30am or 8am. I go home. I shower. I nap. Then I try to get up so I actually can enjoy some of my day off. However, on that day, your sleep is off. You run on short sleep. Then, because you napped, when normal sleep time comes, you aren't tired. You are wired to stay up almost all night.

I set my alarm that night (actually, early morning...because I can't sleep like normal people!!!). I set my alarm for 12:30pm. I figured that would give me enough time to wake up, get ready and drive the 1.5 hours to Napa. Hotel check-in was at 3:00pm. My alarm went off at 12:30pm. I was super tired. I got up, knew I needed to pack, and walked into the bathroom. That was the last thing I remember. 

I woke up, face-down on the bathroom floor, in a puddle of blood. I was in my PJs. I had my UGG slippers on. I had no idea what had happened. 

Being the ridiculous person that I am, when I finally came to, I was like, "Holy shit! This is a huge mess! I have to clean this up!" I quickly stood up, looked in the mirror, saw my bottom lip hanging off my face, checked to make sure I had all of my teeth, cleaned up the floor, folded up the bathroom rug (which looked like a crime scene piece of evidence), and then wadded up a piece of toilet paper, tucked it into my mouth to absorb the blood, and then decided I needed to go back to bed.

K. I am a nurse. This whole scenario sounds so crazy to me now, but this was the scenario, nonetheless. In case you haven't figured it out yet, I WAS CONCUSSED. I was not making good decisions. If Nurse Whitney could have spoken to Face-On-The-Floor Whitney, she would be like, "Um, Sis, that was a poor choice. You could've died. And stop trying to clean everything up for your roommates--like, you have bigger fish to fry." But Floor Whitney and Nurse Whitney had morphed into two different humans that day. 

I want to stop for a brief intermission here. I can read your thoughts. You've probably drifted off to your wicked CSI and Dateline skills. Probably like, "Oh, she must have been drinking/been drunk." 

First of all, I am bumping my head on 50. I enjoy alcohol. However, I am also a control freak. I also hate the idiocy of drunk people, so I try to never aspire to be like them. 

Fun drinking?...YAY!!! 

Drinking to get drunk completely wasted?...LAME. 

 I was also running on short sleep, trying to flip/flop my days and nights, and trying to get to Napa in zombie mode that day.

BACK TO THE STORY!

I tucked TP (of all things) into my face to stop the bleeding, and went back to bed (fully concussed). My lip was still hanging off my face in my slumber. It's times like these that you must know that it's just not your time to die. Like, I probably should've died. But God was like, "Nope!...girl...you have a trip to Napa!!!" #thankyoujesus

I woke up (3 hours later). I picked up my phone. TP in my mouth. I texted my boyfriend. I said, "I fell. Lip hanging off face. It's not good." Then I drifted off again. 

I woke up to him calling me. While I was on the phone with him, I was fading in and out. I didn't know anyone up in SAC, and my roommates were not home. He was like, "Can you take an Uber?" I said, "I don't think so." Then I went back to sleep.

My poor boyfriend. First of all, I am in long distance relationship. I am dating an Alaskan. We have been (on-and-off) for nearly 14 years (mostly on). Imagine getting this information from 2,500 miles away, and how helpless you would feel as the partner, not knowing how to help.

My boyfriend contacted emergency services--only emergency services in Alaska is no help in Sacramento, California. Also, I am kind of a shitty girlfriend, because I didn't give him the address of where I was staying in Sacramento--you know...on the off chance you wake up one day, and break your face on the floor at the house you are staying at for travel nursing.

He finally was able to go through emergency services in Alaska to then get transferred to emergency services in California. Then he had to keep me awake on the phone long enough to get the code for the front door of the house for emergency services to rescue me. It was a successful mission.

The ambulance came and picked me up. I was in my PJs. I had bare feet (a cute pedi and toe rings, though). Lip still hanging off my face. They told me how busy all the area hospitals were. They turfed me to the one I actually was working at. I was still loopy as hell. Still had no idea what happened to me. Because I was considered "stable", they had no room in the ED and sent me to the waiting room.

The waiting room was a cluster of crazy. One woman freaking out because she wanted pain meds stronger than Tylenol. Homeless people left and right. One guy, sitting next to me, dripping blood everywhere after taking a drug elevated joy ride on his skateboard. I was like, "I have entered the seventh circle of hell."

I was in my blood-stained PJs. The ambulance took me in my bare feet, so I ended up with a pair of yellow "fall risk" grippy socks from the hospital. I felt totally mocked at that point. As a healthcare worker, it's an F-you, with a crescendo, "F-YOU!!!...YELLOW GRIPPY SOCKS FOR YOU!!!"  LOL! 

They finally took me back to the ED. I felt so bad for the doc. Because of my concussion, I had been puking on the way in. Then the blood in my mouth. I'm sure I had death breath as this poor doc was sewing up my face. And he had to sew...DEEP. I ripped that mo-fo from the bottom of my jaw all the way up to my lip. He sewed on the inside, and the outside of my face/mouth.

My CT Scan came back negative, even though I was loopy as fuck. It was a bad day. AND I HAD A TRIP TO NAPA PLANNED (priorities)!!!

I got discharged from the ED. I had no car. I was still in blood-stained PJs. No shoes. Yellow "fall risk" grippy socks.  I looked like the progeny of a murderer who hooked up with a homeless person. Definitely NOT my finest moment.

I walked out the doors of the ED. The lobby was still jam packed. People were waiting outside the doors. Made me glad I wasn't and ER nurse. 

I walked over to one of the stone benches, sat down. Then I tried to summon an Uber. 

As I was sitting there, a guy walked up to me. He said, "Hey, you got a light?" I looked up from my phone. He saw my broken face, He said, "Oh, I am so sorry, are you ok?" I said, "Yes. But I don't have a light." He said, "I am so sorry...I hope you have a blessed day." 

Thanks...but...too late.

Then the Uber came. I have taken a lot of Ubers in my life. This was BY FAR the most humiliating. Blood-stained PJs. Hospital grippy socks. I felt so bad for the driver. He got a huge tip. I had to redeem my humiliation somehow.

He dropped me off at the house I was staying at. Concussed Whitney brain said, "You need to put stain remover on the bathroom rugs and throw them in the laundry to get rid of the blood!!!"

Like,  why wouldn't that have been my first priority?...I serve people for a living. My roommates are pigs. Forget the fact that I am concussed with a broken face--we gotta Martha Stuart those bathroom rugs, or somebody is not going to have a place to dry their feet!!! Story of life.

Then I called the hotel I was supposed to be staying at that night in Napa. I had reserved two nights. They told me if I didn't come that night, before midnight, that I would lose my reservation. I had pre-paid. The money would be lost.

What do you do when you have a trip to Napa planned, sustain a concussion, don't know you have a concussion, your face looks like a sewing project in home ec,  but the hotel is threatening to cancel your reservation?...YOU DRIVE TO NAPA!!!!

My packing strategy was probably not the best for this trip. I did the best I could.  The whole day was pretty much a blur. I also hadn't eaten all day, and it was getting late. My teeth felt messed up. I didn't know if I could chew. I decided to go through the only drive thru I saw open--which was Carl's Jr. I have literally never eaten there before. I ordered french fries to try to suck on/eat on the way to Napa. Concussed logic is always the best logic. LOL.

As I was driving through to the drive thru window, the guy opened up the window, told me my total, looked at my face, and said, " Ma'am...are you ok?...like...are you safe at home?" Literally one of the sweetest humans, LIKE EVER. I felt like saying, "Yeah, I did this shit to myself, and like--stone-cold sober. I'll be here all week. I'm just super talented."

I drove to Napa that night. Boyfriend wasn't going to be able to join me on that trip, originally, but he ended up taking an overnight flight down to SAC, and then Ubering to Napa to meet me. He is the sweetest. Not exactly how I had planned that trip to go. 

Not sure if you can get a DUI for being concussed without knowing you are concussed. BUT DAMMIT....WE MADE IT TO WINE COUNTRY!!! And before they cancelled my resort reservation. 😂

Boyfriend took me back to the house up in SAC after our trip to Napa. We were doing our forensic research to try to figure out how I broke my face. Turns out, the transition to the bathroom was not nailed down properly. It came up 2 inches when you hit it the right way. It must have been my lucky day in my night shift daze. 

From what we can guess, my slipper hit it, got wedged, I fell forward, hit my chin/face on the vanity, and then hit my head on the tub to seal the deal...and that is the story. Pretty lame. I've tried to kill myself way harder and in way more unique ways in this life--the cliff jumping in Kauai was the MVP. Next time I will try to go bigger 😂.

Face full of stitches and 3 root canals later (and potentially braces in my future)...I am still here. Oh. And I do all my own stunts. 

BUT WE MADE IT TO NAPA!!! 

😂🍷

Do The Lump Dee Lump...A Breast Cancer Scare Blog

IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!!

Or...at least I thought it was. Until I found IT.

I had flown home this past month for Thanksgiving with my family. There was nothing out of the ordinary about that--I fly home monthly. I flew into Denver the afternoon of Thanksgiving. I picked up my twins at their grandmother's house, and then checked into our hotel room at the Sheraton (our home away from home when I am in Denver). 

I was exhausted. By the time we were settled into the hotel room that night, I had two kids that were full of turkey, and I hadn't eaten since about 11:00 a.m. that day. I ordered room service, had a quick bite to eat, and went to sleep.

I woke up the next day, and hit the mall for a few things that were not at all Black Friday related. It was mostly items to stock the fridge at the hotel so that my teenage wolverines didn't chew their own legs off in hunger. I went to the gym. I did my normal cardio workout. Then I went over and worked on my abs. I broke that up with my normal weight lifting routine for my arms/back/chest. By the time I got done, I was feeling it. I thought it might have something to do with traveling from sea level in California, up to nearly 7,500ft elevation in the foothills of Colorado and working out. 

When I returned back to the hotel room, I massaged my muscles. I massaged my arms, neck, and upper chest to loosen things up. It was at that time that my hand came to a screeching halt.

My eyes shifted back and forth for a bit. I pursed my lips and made a, "hmmmm..." sound. Then I ran my hand over my upper chest again. This time, my heart sank a little.

I found...a lump. The one thing that no woman wants to find on her chest (unless she pays for strategic augmentation that feels more like a water balloon to enhance her "beauty").

DAMMIT.

My heart sank. I now had a lump in my throat, too. My hand was right at the top of my breast tissue on my right side--right where I could feel my upper ribs start, and breast tissue end. 

I immediately went into the loo and did a complete examination of both sides of my chest. I am fairly good at remembering periodically that I am supposed to be doing routine breast examinations, but it had been months--and now I had something that I had never felt before...and it was BIG (3 finger widths). However, to give myself credit, I think I'm better at remembering to do semi-routine breast examinations than I am at remembering to go in for an annual GYN examination. It's horrible to admit--especially since, not only am I a nurse, but I'm a nurse in WOMEN'S HEALTH!! Ugh. I kill me sometimes. I think my last GYN exam was in 2011 when I got sterilized. Super horrible to admit. I could've died from cervical cancer like 8 times by now. It's ridiculous. BUT...we all know that nurses are the worst at taking care of themselves health care-wise. Stating fact--not making excuses.

I checked both sides of my chest so that I had a bilateral comparison of normal vs abnormal--and I definitely had something that didn't match the other side that was going on. My heart sank into my stomach...again.

"Dear God--please don't let it be cancer."

I walked out of the hotel bathroom. I sat on the bed. My daughter asked me what was wrong. She's 15, and we don't keep much a secret as far as our bodies go in my family. I am not of that narrow minded school of thought, and I always want my children to be educated and confident in their bodies and their relative circumstances. That, and their grandfather was a physician, and their grandmother was a nurse, so they get hammered with anatomy and physiology, inadvertently, on a regular basis.

I told my daughter I had found a lump in my breast. She said, "Let me see!" So, I showed her the area of concern, and allowed her to palpate the tissue as her curiosity so desired. She said, "OMG, MOM!!!!...that's HUGE!!!!"

Awesome. 

Sweet.

Great.

Seeing as though I was out of town, and nowhere near my primary care physician, I decided to do the exact thing that I always tell my patients to STOP DOING--I consulted Dr. Google. And, par for the course, according to Dr. Google, with 100% certainty, I had breast cancer. It was going to be a very relaxing trip...OBVIOUSLY.

I spent the rest of that trip in kind of a daze. I didn't know what to think, and I felt isolated and trapped--states away from anyone who could give me any answers back in California. I had brought it up to my boyfriend. He was sweet, and very supportive. He tried to be reassuring. However, when you are faced with something like this--not even the most reassuring voice of reason can quiet the voice of paranoia and Dr. Google in your head that YOU HAVE CANCER.

On my last night in Denver, I went over to my ex-husband's house. We had been talking about the kids, and commiserating about how hideous, obnoxious, and entitled most children are at the age of 15, but that we love them anyway, and want nothing more than for them to be successful and to turn out to be decent human beings. Then, one of the kids popped off about something, interjected her two cents worth on the topic of my breasts.  I didn't take kindly to it (nor did her father), and I ended up having my eyes well up with tears, and everything I had emotionally been holding in for days finally came flooding out in that moment. I told my ex-husband what I had discovered over Thanksgiving break. However, unlike my unruly teen, he was reasonable, sympathetic, and quick to give me a big hug and tell me that things were most likely going to be OK. Then we both tearfully agreed how hideous 15 year olds are, again.

I returned to California late that night. The next day, I called my PCP and made an appointment to be seen. They said they could get me in the next day. It became very real, very quickly, how hard it is to WAIT in situations such as these. It's horrible. It's very easy to let your mind get away from you, and run in 90 different directions--none of which are good for your health, or peaceful.

I went into my doctor's office. I was to be seen by the female nurse practitioner that day. I didn't care. The bottom line was that I needed an order for a mammogram and an ultrasound of the area I found the lump. Nonetheless, as I sat in the waiting room of my doctor's office, I had a blank stare on my face. I just kept repeating, "Please, God, don't let it be cancer." Eventually, I was called into the examination room.

A woman (not my nurse practitioner) walked into my room. She didn't introduce herself. She just started asking me questions. She had a white coat on. She looked legit. But it rubbed me the wrong way that she didn't even say "HI", or give a proper introduction. 

She then started asking me a whole host of questions about my health history--all of which my primary doctor already knows BECAUSE THIS IS WHERE I GO FOR MY HEALTH CARE. I finally shut her down and said, "I've already filled out all of my information, so if you need a comprehensive patient profile, you can look it up in my chart. I can't even think straight right now because I am so worried." 

She apologized and said, "I'm sorry--I'm a student nurse practitioner, so they want me to ask these questions." I am sure she would've appreciated me being compliant with her interrogation of my health history that the facility already had on file, but I had bigger fish to fry. And I was actually proud of myself that I didn't pop off and say, "Well, if that's the case, we can start with a proper introduction, and a "HI, HOW ARE YOU TODAY?""--which it's impressive that I spared her the lecture on proper formal provider/patient introductions, but Dr. Google said I was dying of breast cancer, so I shouldn't bite the hand that is about to feed me the order for the mammogram I desperately needed, right? RIGHT. Yay me. Sometimes, silence is a virtue--even though it threatens to kill me at times, too.

I took my shirt off. I was offered a gown, but figured the GIRLS GONE WILD approach would be just as effective. The student practitioner palpated my breast and immediately felt what I was concerned about. The legit nurse practitioner then came in, contorted me into 15 different positions with my arms and body, did the same thing--and said she wasn't convinced I had a lump.

AS AN ASIDE: I had taken a step back a time or two the previous week to reason with myself. I thought, "Maybe I have always had this lump and just never realized it.--maybe, like Lady Gaga says, "Baby, you were born this way!" Quite possible. But I needed a mammogram before I lost more sleep--and my mind.

I received my order for my mammogram and ultrasound. The legit nurse practitioner said it would be through a company I had never heard of. I asked her why I couldn't go to my hospital to get it done. She said it was easier for her to order through this other company because their computers interfaced orders with one another. I didn't understand it, but I went with it.

I sat up, put my bra and shirt back on, and felt my eyes welling up with tears again. Then the floodgates opened. All the emotions I had been holding back had manifested in that moment. Both the nurse practitioner and student NP looked like they didn't know what to do. They asked if there was anyone in the waiting room waiting for me. There wasn't. Then they both came up to me and gave me a hug, and reassured me that it was going to be OK. The first real personal interaction I had felt with them since the second they stepped into my room.

I called the imaging clinic they had referred me to the next day. There was man "helping" me with scheduling. I'm not usually a man hater, but I really didn't feel like dealing with a male scheduler for my mammogram. Not only that, but I was having to explain things to him, he couldn't find the order, he had no idea who my doctor was, or where the office was located, and he couldn't find the order. I'm not saying this series of unfortunate circumstances was due to him being a man--I just didn't feel like dealing with him, or his ineptitude at that moment. I was still in panic mode. He then said he would have to contact my clinic for the order, and then he said the closest clinic he could send me to was in Beverly Hills. I told him that I wasn't driving to Beverly Hills for a mammogram--especially not after knowing the imaging center for the hospital I work with is literally across the street from my hospital. I basically hung up the phone on him. I probably could've been more cordial and appreciative for his mediocre efforts with my scheduling, but I wasn't in the mood. At this point, as far as Dr. Google and I were concerned, I was still dying, and he was just wasting more of my precious time.

I called my clinic back and asked them to put in the order with my hospital clinic. I knew it wasn't convenient, but neither was my current frame of mind. Thankfully, they bent over backwards, and got me scheduled for the next morning at 9:45 a.m. for a mammogram and ultrasound. I had to work the night before, so I would get off at 7:30 or 8:00 a.m. and then wait for the appointment afterward. 

I went into the women's imaging clinic. I grabbed my clipboard with paperwork I needed to fill out. I sat in the lobby surrounded by nobody my age, and I just kept saying, "Please, God--don't let it be cancer." 

I filled out my paperwork. I was called up to the admission desk. They knew I was an employee of the company. The lady was so nice to me. She could tell I was terrified. I told her I had just worked all night at the hospital, and I had to be back to work that night, so I would be running on short sleep because of my appointment time. She expedited EVERYTHING. She said she would get me back to be seen as soon as possible, and SHE DID. It was SO nice to be so well taken care of.

I went back to the dressing area. They gave me a locker, and some green scrub kimono top thingy that came in one size fits NOT ME (so that each side could open/cover up for the mammogram). I went into a changing room, put the oversized shirt on, and then went and sat in the mammogram waiting room. I was the only one in the waiting room at that time. I could hear crickets chirping--and Christmas music playing in the background. I picked up a magazine. I flipped through the pages. I didn't care about the celebrities, the fashion, or the ads...I kept saying, "Please, God, Don't let it be cancer."

I was called back for my mammogram. The radiology tech asked me to point out where my lump was. I palpated my right breast, and pointed it out to her. She said, "Lift your arm up for me, and show me." So, I did. And she said, "OH! I see it!" 

SHIT. For real? You SEE it? That's it--I'm SO screwed. Dr. Google was right. The Titanic just hit the iceberg. Shit's about to get real.

The tech marked my lump with a sticker. She then walked me over to the mammogram machine. If you've never had a mammogram, the only way I can describe it is like this...

If your breast had a face, and your breast's face was pressed up against glass, THIS is what it would look like...

The tech grabbed my breast and assisted it into a squashing device from many different angles. I was told not to breathe as the images were taken. Luckily, there was a radiologist on site to read the mammogram immediately and give me my results. Unfortunately, the tech had told me that the part of my breast that was affected usually did not show up on the mammogram, and that the ultrasound would need to be used for further diagnosis. Then she raced out of the room to show the radiologist my mammogram results--which also freaked me out. I was like, "She wouldn't be going that fast if I wasn't dying. SHIT. Shit. Shit. Shit." (all things that go through your head at times like these)

The mammogram tech came back and told me that the radiologist had cleared me from that standpoint. She asked if I was OK. My eyes welled up with tears, and the floodgates opened again. I couldn't hold them back. She said, "Oh yeah, the office told me when they scheduled you that you were really nervous and scared." 

Awesome. At least you knew I was coming. I grabbed some tissue from the tissue box. Next up was my ultrasound. 

I was escorted back to the waiting room in my unruly kimono that basically showed a plunging neckline and was hanging off my shoulders. I thanked God that the mammogram was negative, but walked in a blind stare to my chair in the waiting room, and sat down to wait for my ultrasound. I didn't even grab a magazine this time. However, God has little ways of showing me He is present...even in my loneliest and most terrifying moments. Mele Kalikimaka (the Hawaiian Christmas song) was the song playing on the sound system--which is my favorite Christmas song...EVER. But, I wasn't alone this time in the waiting room. There was another woman sitting in there. She was reading a magazine. We were wearing matching kimono tops. She seemed so composed, and reading away. She then was called for her mammogram--only it was her second of the week. It was a repeat because they saw something on the previous one. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath--for BOTH of us. That waiting room--although the decor and amenities were super hospitable, felt like the most terrifying place. It feels like a myocardial infarction in there--the feeling of impending doom. It's indescribable.

As I sat with a blank stare on my face awaiting my ultrasound and listening to Christmas music, the woman that had been in the waiting room prior, returned from her repeat mammogram. She was awaiting her repeat ultrasound--but this time, she was in tears. My eyes welled up again. I didn't know her. I don't know her situation. But I'm also not stupid--there was a reason why we were both there. Something wasn't right. And it's terrifying. At that moment, I said a little prayer for both of us. 

I was called back for my ultrasound. I was shaking. The tech ran the machine over my sticker marked area from every direction. I could hear her taking pictures of the area with the buttons on her machine. Each click made me grow more paranoid. I could barely hold back the tears.

She finished her procedure, and left the room to show the results to the radiologist. In that moment, I felt like I had every thought running through me. "How am I going to deal with chemo? How do I hold a job? How am I going to pay my bills? Am I going to die?"

These are all very REAL questions that you face in the moment. That one moment when your world can go from normal, to totally terrifying in a matter or seconds. Not only do you have to come to face with your own mortality, but you have to face that some things are totally out of your control--and we are all mortal...regardless of age. Life deals out a bunch of curve balls...but cancer SUCKS. It is like a hammer...or a wrecking ball. It comes in...uninvited...unannounced...and it delivers a huge, devastating blow.

My ultrasound results came back negative. By the grace of God...my ultrasound came back NEGATIVE. Maybe it's just more muscle tissue on that side since that is my dominant side. Perhaps it's some other sort of fluke. The ultrasound tech said, "I'm glad we have good news for you today, Ms. Madison!" 

JESUS

BREATHE...

My boyfriend had texted me during the appointment. I called him afterward. I broke down in tears. I had an entire week of struggle prior to that conversation. I couldn't hold back the tears. I just cried. I was happy...relieved...and sad for those who hear otherwise. It was emotional overload. I was driving home talking to him. He was supposed to be in San Diego on business. I had no idea he was waiting for me at my place when I got home. It was just what I needed.

I can't imagine being the nurse or tech who has to tell someone they have cancer. I feel so lucky right now. This whole experience has been so terrifying. I am a nurse. I realize I deal with things people can't fathom. I help people bring their babies into the world, hold their babies as they die, or try to save mothers' lives in pregnancy/childbirth. And that's what I do...and I CAN do that. And it is heartbreaking, but I feel like that is part of my calling in this life. However, working in a clinic where you have to tell people they have cancer?...I don't know if I'm strong enough for that. Nursing is so funny that way. We are all cut out specifically for a purpose--or calling. And we can't fathom it any other way. 

PLEASE...please...make sure you are doing your monthly breast examinations. Do not ignore your health. Health and health care can be very scary, but please take the time to know your body, and address abnormal findings with your healthcare provider. There is a lot of amazing life to live out there.

Stay Healthy.

Stay Happy.

                                                                            Love.

Forgive.

Breathe.

We've got this.

(: CHEERS. :)

Epic Summer 2017 #endlesssummer

HAPPY SUMMER!

The adventure starts NOW.

So This Is Happening Right Now...

I AM IN VEGAS!!!

Whaaaaaat???? Couldn't be further from my comfort zone, but I am here, and it is CRAZY.

So, I arrived at my hotel, walked into the lobby, and this was my response shortly thereafter:

(you can follow my ridiculous Snapchat videos on www.instagram.com/whitneythesnapchatdeer)

Apparently, I've lived a very sheltered life. Yes, I'm the new kid in Vegas.

www.instagram.com/whitneythesnapchatdeer

I have sensory overload at the moment. So I had to go to my hotel room and do yoga. Not even kidding. Then I busted out the wine.

Just going to wing it, and have a kick-ass time!!!

#whathappensinvegas

Looking Forward To What Is Next

(: I LOVE MY LIFE. :)

**CALIFORNIA LOVE**

MERRY CHRISTMAS 2016!!!

Happy holidays!!! Some people send Christmas cards. I send a Christmas blog these days. I used to handcraft all of my Christmas cards. They were super elaborate, and I had fun designing them every year. However, that all stopped when I got divorced, and I haven't been able to get stoked about Christmas cards since. THAT DOES NOT MEAN I DON'T LIKE TO RECEIVE THEM!!! I WANT YOUR CHRISTMAS CARDS!!! Glad we are clear. I'm waiting for your cards. Eagerly. :)

As anticipated, this has kind of been a wild year for me. I packed up and moved from Wasilla, Alaska in 2015, and moved to a town in California that I had only picked out randomly on a map one night when I was working in OB Triage at my hospital in Alaska when had i no patients. I knew I wanted to be closer to home so I had a shorter commute to see my kids, but I loved the hospital system I was currently in, so I called up all of their job postings on the intranet, did my research, and picked the hospital that was closest to the BEACH in California!!!! And it has worked out well for me in most areas thus far :)

I spend a lot of time at the beach on my days off. I workout a lot, but my workouts have taken on a new form. I go running on the beach multiple times per week. I was just there tonight, and it was GORGEOUS!!! I've logged 17 miles on my Fitbit in the past two days, and mostly because I JUST DON'T WANT TO GO HOME!!!

Something strange happens in Cali in the winter. People get cold--when it's 60F. I am one of them now when I'm not running, but this is PERFECT RUNNING WEATHER!!! I run on the beach all the time, and it isn't abnormal to be there by MYSELF and late at night!!! Which is ALSO amazing!!! It's so quiet, and peaceful. It's better for my soul than any breathing and relaxing I've paid to do in a yoga studio--and it's FREE. Unreal.

Of course, I have spent many, many days surfing, as well. This is a surf photo from one of my many trips to surf the North Shore of Kauai, but, funny story as to why this insn't a recent Cali photo-- it's hard to video yourself surfing in Cali when you fly solo 97% of the time in the waves, so this is the photo you get--and it's from close to shore, because cameras also don't like to get wet, and Santa hasn't brought me the GoPro of my dreams. I have also joined the South Bay Surf Club here in Torrance, CA, but those weirdos like to surf dawn patrol at the crack of dawn, and this kid works nights, so our times don't jive most of the time. Solo surfer girl most of the time, but I have met some pretty awesome surfers here, and they have always treated me well. I've had encounters with dolphins, whales, flying fish, and a baby (5ft) great white shark. Thankful for that, and not getting bit or eaten :)

I have been able to travel home more frequently to Colorado from L.A., which has been GREAT. It's ridiculous. I fly exclusively with Southwest Airlines as my airline of choice. They are the BEST AIRLINE, EVER. I loved Alaska Airlines, but Southwest ROCKS. Not only do bags fly free, but I get my return tickets from Denver to LAX for $44. What?!!? I can barely put gas in my car for that price! I am their biggest fan. They really have made my family situation a whole lot easier. I don't have to work as many overtime hours to make my life work because of their low fares, and I feel like they truly CARE about their passengers. Always happy, nice, friendly people to help me out along the way. It warms my heart--because a big piece of my heart is in Colorado and I need them to get there every few weeks to be with my kids!!! And my girls have been able to fly solo on Southwest as "Young Travelers" since they were the age of 12. I don't have to pay the crazy babysitting rate to have someone watch my kids that the other airlines charge ($100 per kid and each way). My kids can watch themselves on an airplane, and are VERY well solo-traveled by now--they know how to navigate LAX better than I do.

Still loving the hospital I work at. Every unit has its issues, but I've learned to just step back and let that be the case. It's the nature of the beast. The thinG I have enjoyed the most about where I currently work is my nurse coworkers. We all have fun, enjoy being around each other, and we're a great team. We always have each other's backs, and there is none of the catty crap I had to deal with in Alaska. It makes all the difference in the world, and I'm am very thankful for all my L&D girls!!! However, the one thing I will say is that the docs are super hit or miss here. You need some THICK SKIN to work in this part of Cali. Which makes it all the more necessary that I have a good team of girls to work with as nurses. We have to combat a lot of doctor crap, but we can spin it, make fun of it and it keeps our spirits up :)

I'm not Catholic, but my hospital does a great job of decorating at Christmas, and keeping true to the Christmas message of Christ's birth. I am always thankful to work for a hospital that is faith-based. FAITH--not RELIGION. I have some strong lines I draw between faith and religion, but this is a stellar bunch, and I always enjoy the prayer over the speakers on each shift to ground me, lift me up,  and remind me of my purpose. It is enlightening, and welcomed.

So, funny Cali story. I've been asked multiple times since I've been here if people can have my autograph, and if I'm an actress. No. But I'm a labor and delivery nurse, and a mom of 4 amazing kids. Does that count? Makes me laugh every time. Sorry, LAX paparazzi. You guys kill me. I would rather die with unpedicured toes than be the Kardashians. Or maybe L.A. will "discover" me, and give me a late night show. I'd actually dig that. More my style.

 My twins will be out here on December 22nd for Christmas!!!! I'm SO looking forward to our time together. I love my girls so much. Looking forward to Christmas cookie baking, gingerbread house making, all the Christmas movies they make me watch (over and over and over again), and watching out traditional movie each year, "It's a Wonderful Life", beach hikes/runs, surfing, and DISNEYLAND!!!! Oh...and PRESENTS! I'm such a Christmas kid, and, if nothing else, I'm glad I've been able to share Christmas with these babes in both Cali and Alaska because of my work situation. Not the ideal situation, but the way your family works is what makes you a family. Love is glue. This works for us. :) And we get some awesome memories and adventures to boot. ;)

Did I forget to mention that I met Santa in L.A.? It just happened to be running past him one night. He was sitting on a cliff, in a lawn chair, enjoying the sunset in Palos Verdes, CA. I walked up to him. Asked him for a pic. I told him that I went to college at the University of Alaska Fairbanks, just outside North Pole, Alaska. He got a kick out of it. He is a TV personality here in L.A., but lives part time in Oregon. He has written multiple children's Christmas books. He does a lot in our L.A. community to keep the spirit of Santa alive. He also drives a red Mini with the license plate "N-Pole". He's good people. He even gave me his card.

SO...
Single? Dating?

Wouldn't you like to know. Here is what I can divulge about the current situation:

Dating
Blue Eyes
Dark Hair
Mostly athletic
Gainfully employed with a Master's Degree
Long distance relationship
Sweet
Kind
Caring
Does not drink alcohol (which is OK--I probably drink enough for both of us most of the time)
Age? 30s
Does he surf?--Yes. Praise the Lord.
Favorite attribute: He enjoys my CrAZy and offers sweet advice when I exceed my parameters.
Weakness?--flossing teeth regularly. I floss my teeth twice daily and expect the same from those I date--I'm the dental hygiene Nazi.

That's all. Oh, and these Emoji pics that preserve our identity.

As I conclude this blog, I wish you all a very happy holiday season. This has been a very trying year for me at times. It has brought me to my knees in tears with heartbreak at times, but I'm eternally grateful for the grace of God. For growth. For change. For having faith that God isn't going to leave me where I'm at right now, and that my future and potential is bright beyond what I can fathom. Aim high in 2017. Don't get stuck feeling down, depressed, weird, or unloved. Engage in this life. Seek out a purpose. Be strong. Forgive. LOVE. Love love love!!!! You are all amazing, and when we truly realize that we are not here by accident, then we can start living with a purpose and stream our focus. I'm thankful for the celebration of this Christmas season. Thank you, Jesus. You are, and will always be my RoCkStAr.


XOXO Whit

DOLPHINS!!!! How these sweet creatures have touched my heart :)

So, when I first moved to Torrance, California, I was out on my surfboard at sunset, and about 10 ft in front of my board, a fin popped up. And then another fin popped up. And another. There was a beautiful pod of dolphins in front of me. Then, all of the sudden, a juvenile whale blew water out of his blowhole (he was swimming with his dolphin friends). I was just lying on my board, just watching all of this magic unfold in front of me. I wanted them to come closer. All I could think was that they showed up as a sign that I was where I was supposed to be at this time in my life. It was so beautiful, and felt so right. I had a calming peace that overwhelmed me.

Ever since, I've adopted the dolphins as a "sign". I've gone through some tough times in the past 6 months. When I'm at the beach, I've said, "God, if ___________ is supposed to happen, or be your direction for my life, let me see the dolphins." Some days I would ask questions, and see them. Some days I would ask questions, and no dolphins were in sight. 

I asked a very specific, and important question one night at the beach; a very important question that could, and would change the direction of my life. And the dolphins never showed up. However, the question I asked was regarding a special person in my life, and the direction I should go with him. I was confused at that time. I had different directions I could go, and they were intriguing. But I had to know for sure what God had planned for my life.

About a week later, I was walking a path in San Diego with this wonderful man. We were holding hands. The ocean was just off to the side of the path. This man turned to me, hugged me, and gave me a long, beautiful kiss--that was then interrupted by the sound of dolphins blowing water out of their blowholes. Of course, this man had no idea that the dolphins were the symbol of the answer to my deepest questions, but we stopped kissing, and turned towards the water to see where they were. They were SO close to us!!!

This is the video that I took while walking on the beach about a week and a half ago with that same man. And the dolphins showed up, and put on quite a show for us. It was like watching a dance that had choreographed just for us. And there is no one in the world I would've rather shared the moment with :)