Full circle

I took this photo on May 1, 2014. I remember the moment SO vividly. I packed up my homework, backpack, and lunchbox, and headed for the parking garage. It was my last night as a practicum student after 15 weeks in the Pediatric ED at Scottsdale Shea. I cried in the car all the way home, calling to tell my mom how sad I was that this amazing experience had come to an end. I wasn't sure what was coming next and I truly wanted to be a practicum student forever. I had learned so much about pediatrics, emergency medicine, and child life in general, and I was hungry for so much more. This was especially crazy to me, considering that I had begun the experience saying I could NEVER work in an ER ( I do laugh at that thought now, but seriously, I was so scared)

•••••

You see, just 15 short weeks prior lies another, just as vivid memory. January 13, 2014. It was my first day as a practicum student in the Emergency Department, and I was TERRIFIED. Anyone who knew me knew that the ER was NOT a place I wanted to be, ever, much less multiple times a week. The lack of predictability and the potential instability of the patients had completely scared me away. I remember even needing to take a few minutes in the parking garage to calm my nerves before I walked in for my first shift. What I didn't realize as a nervous student on that day in January was that God was already starting to work on a big, big plan for the future, and that he was beginning to change and open my heart to prepare for the unfolding of this plan almost exactly 4 years later

•••••

At the time I posted the photo on Instagram, my caption was as follows: "sometimes when we embark on new adventures, we forget how hard it will be to say goodbye. Tonight was my last shift in the ER, and I just cant get over how blessed I was to call this place home for the past semester. I challenged myself personally and professionally and learned more than I ever thought was possible in 15 weeks, thanks to some incredible people. Never thought I would say it, but I really am going to miss this view"

•••••

Flash forward 4 years and a few days- Having subsequently completed an internship, worked for 2 different hospitals in 2 different states, and having discovered an intense love of providing child life services in the ED, I found myself job searching once again. Simultaneously, by happenstance, crazy coincidence,(or maybe not?), one of those "amazing people" referenced in my original caption was able to fulfill her long standing dream of being an amazing stay at home Mom. Within a couple weeks, I, of all people, was offered (and of course accepted!) her job. I learned most of what I know in this exact ED from these incredible people, and now I'm officially apart of its team and it's future. It still doesn't feel quite real.

•••••

I know exactly how big these shoes are to fill, because I walked in them for 15 weeks 4 years ago. To say I'm honored would be the understatement of the century, to say I'm not at all terrified would be a bold faced lie. 99% of me is too scared to even want to try to succeed again, but luckily 1% tells me this might be worth the risk. The words and actions of others stripped me of my confidence and threatened to cloud my opinion of my own passion. I don't know why it took such a crazy winding path to end up back here, right where it all started. I don't know quite how God plans to use me in this job at this hospital. I don't know exactly how this story ends or what tomorrow holds. But here's what I do know: God is good, all the time. His plans are always for us, and never against us. And He's been preparing me for this specific experience since the beginning of 2014, when I couldn't have fathomed or dreamed of where I'd be today or how I would get here.

•••••

So tomorrow morning, after parking in the same garage with butterflies in my stomach, I'll walk into the exact same building, ridiculously nervous again, just like I did in the middle of January 4 years ago. And with any luck, I'll soon be madly in love with this beautiful experience just like I was on that bittersweet day in May.

•••••

"For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland"

The ambulance bay

"Time of death:1944".

I've watched several of my close friends work a pediatric code for almost an hour now. Countless rounds of CPR, Epi, and hopeful pulse checks.

We locked eyes while you were compressing. The look on your face tells me we both know this will not end well, despite all of your heroic efforts.  I watch you throw your gloves in the trash can, wipe the sweat from your forehead, and head straight for the ambulance bay. I chased after you, knowing we need each other to stay strong tonight. I caught up to you next to the fire engine outside. We hugged as tears streamed down both our faces. "This fucking sucks. Every time" One thing we can all agree on. Its not long before we have to go back inside and see the rest of our patients; It's in this quick moment that I'm reminded of how important these relationships are.

On the busiest of nights, a quick glance and an eye roll as we pass each other in the stock room says a thousand words about the crazy family we just interacted with. Venting about our personal lives as we cavi- wipe a room for one of the many coughing kids out in the waiting room. Taking lunch breaks together and promising to not talk about work for 30 minutes. Buying each other cafeteria cookies when it's been a rough day.  Making jokes about things that people outside of our "family" would be horrified to hear.  And yes, crying together on the ugliest of days; we find our strength in each other here in the openness of the ambulance bay.

And I hope you know how proud I am of you.  I watch the code from outside the room, standing next to our sweet patient's mom and dad. I'm in amazement of the coordination, the knowledge, and talent in this room. I'm amazed that I'm even a part of something so grand.  Everyone puts their differences aside and fights like hell until the very. last. second. You were so brave. Tonight, and every other night. By opening our hearts to these kids and their families, we open our hearts to the hurt that they experience. But I'm so glad you do. Because you were made for this.

So we heal each other, together, and keep on keeping on. Day after day, shift after shift. Most of us will say its what we love about the ER: when you clock in, you never know what the next 12 hours will hold. And I hope none of us have many more days that end like today. But if and when we do, I'll just be glad to have you by my side. I'll meet you in the ambulance bay.