I Am Not Dead.

Hi there.

Miss me?

You know you did!

I'm still alive. Still giving em hell at 130 knots and 3000 feet above ground level.

You'll notice that for the second time in this blog's stunted and weird existence I've deleted all of the posts and started over fresh.

It's a rebirth. Again.

I loved blogging and it allowed me the needed venting medium that kept me (mostly) sane. I think I need to start back and keep this up, if not for myself but for other people to read and shower me with affection and commiserate with me and validate my existence. Yeah, basically for myself.

I took some time off to get my mind right. That's a running theme with me, trying like hell to be normal in an abnormal job. An abnormal career.

You know, we're all nurses and everyone is welcome here.... however I've said it before and it bears repeating: some of us are the freaks and geeks of the nursing world. We are the weirdos and the line-walkers and the irreverent ones. The ones who don't quite fit in with the heart-shaped stethoscope necklaces and Origami Owl bandaids and hearts badge holders crowd you find so often in our job. We will never be the Nurses of Instagram. We are the tattoo sleeved, strange hair color, mismatched scrubs givers of zero fucks who roll up our sleeves and get dirty and carpe the motherfucking diem out of our jobs.

So here's to us, the renegades. Here we are.


Flight Nursing Is My Spirit Animal

So I'm sitting on the couch at work with my pilot and my paramedic partner having an in-depth conversation about how Penny is a total bitch to Leonard in the early seasons of The Big Bang Theory and I had a moment where I looked around my base and at my people and I thought...

This is it. This is awesome. This is where I belong.