Feeling Alone? You Can Sit With Us

This was a statement made at a recent training I attended. The invitation implies that you are welcome, wanted, and encouraged to join those already sitting.

How many of us spend precious energy talking ourselves out of that invitation.
Today, more than ever, we feel separated, without connections, living with loneliness and forlorn. These doubts often rule us and impact our lives in ways that might take decades to weed through.

I am too different. They won’t like me. I think differently. They wouldn’t understand my past, my present, my choices, my trauma…


Before you sit at the table, do you feel you must introduce your quirks to the group? I do. Over the past 5 months, I have had multiple provider-level job interviews where I have been asked many ‘get to know you’ questions. Below are my answers to the ‘Tell us something about yourself that you would want to change or that makes you feel uncomfortable’ questions.

“Sorry, sometimes I say what I am thinking. I am a bit spectrum and I don’t always catch cues. I’m not very good with big change. I do get overstimulated sometimes, but if you give me a minute it gets better. I’m not always good with authority, I might complain first.”

One of my interviews started with a pretty hefty game of phone tag. When we finally connected, the other person was light-hearted completely disarming. We laughed about our game, and they expressed how glad they were that we finally met. I felt welcomed at that table.

Contrast that with the moments we have walked into a room without engagement. It doesn’t take long for those negative feelings to come up, for the excuses to pile high, and for your mind to convince you that you are not welcome. We have all been there. We assume the lack of welcome is judgment.

I have literally had to repeat to myself, “No one is talking about me. No one is judging me. I am worthy to be here.”


I envy those who have the confidence to welcome themselves to the table. I am grateful for those who look for a moment to connect. Those who wave you to a seat, welcome you with a smile, come up and say hello. I have been blessed to have people who genuinely welcome me to sit with them when I do not feel the need to explain why I don’t belong.

It is really amazing what a smile can do. How a glance can disarm. The priceless act of grace pushes back against self-judgment and doubt. I can only hope that at some time in my life, I can offer a sincere invitation and help someone feel the belonging that has been gifted to me.

Luckily for us, there are those that grab our hand and pull us in before we can turn away.

Next time you are invited to sit, just sit. Forget the excuses, don’t worry about the purpose of the invitation, ignore the doubt. Sit. It is the only way to know if these are your people. It is the only way to find out if this is your place. If it doesn’t work out, then focus on creating your table of belonging. Work to surround yourself with those you want to sit with. Be the smile, the welcoming glance, the outstretched arm. Create your place to fit in, and you won’t have to doubt if you belong.

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Snapshots

I was thinking the other day about who we are to others, who we appear to be at this moment in time, and what is missing from the impressions we leave behind.  This is why those “I have not done” lists on social media are so popular.  We want to know a person’s story and who they were before who they have become.  These lists are like the pictures of the 80-year-old woman standing in front of the mirror, and in her reflection, you see a nurse, a lawyer, a soldier…or a childSnapshots miss so much about what made us who we are today, and they completely disregard the changes we have made in our lives.  Most of all, they miss our growth and the lessons we learned within that change.  The danger is that we dismiss the person’s past and expect what we see, often leading to less grace, less humanity, and less forgiveness. 

Then ask yourself why it is necessary to know why someone is the way they are, or what in their past taints their now, for you to give them the understanding and grace you would readily give if you met them in that past moment.”

*My children know I am a survivor of childhood abuse, domestic violence, and sexual assault.  These have never been in-depth conversations and usually come about through topics such as autonomy, protecting self, how we treat others, and why I or others are the way we are.   Many things have gone unsaid, and I have told my children that if they read my journals, they should do so with caution, and certainly after I have left this world because there are things they may not know.  I think that is likely true for all parents, as we tend to guard our children from our past. 

This is where I remind you that you are not responsible for the choices of others, especially when you were a child or the outcomes of those choices.  It is not your responsibility to carry the weight of those decisions; doing so harms you and your future self.  While you are responsible for your own actions and reactions, it is limited to what you knew at that time. If you, as a child, were given alcohol or drugs by an adult and became an addict, you are only responsible for what you did when it was solely your choice.  If once you were responsible for yourself, you continued to use it, then that is where your responsibility starts.  There are still consequences for your behaviors as a child; sadly, those consequences may carry through your life and into other’s lives.  This is especially true in cases such as a child giving another child drugs, or a child sexually abusing another child We must learn to forgive ourselves and let go of the psychological and emotional weight brought by another’s choice.  Carrying this weight prevents us from healing and prevents that person from being held responsible.  If you were standing in front of me, I would physically lift that invisible weight off of your shoulders, and we would symbolically place that weight on the person responsible. It is theirs to carry, not yours.

If you have known me for any period of time you have heard me say, “When you know better, you do better”.  I often talk about the discussions I have had with my (now adult) children about their childhood and their perceptions.  My husband and I have prompted our children to take what was positive from childhood into adulthood and leave the negative.  We are honest that we made mistakes, sometimes that caused emotional and psychological harm, and we want our children to know that they can always talk to us about those mistakes. My fondest wish is to roadblock any passed down/generational trauma and forge the way for permanent change for future generations of my family.

Take what I told you above about my childhood, and think of a moment when you have judged another by their snapshot.  If you knew more, would you have reacted differently to that moment?

Ask yourself why it is necessary to know why someone is the way they are and what in their past taints their now for you to give them the understanding and grace you would readily give if you met them in that past moment.

Snapshots are only one moment in the making of a lifetime.

Part 2 Covid for Me

If Covid has taught us anything, it should be to love others, be an active participant in your life, and not procrastinate living.

In the course of caring for patients, many nurses have contracted Covid. It is an inherent risk of the personal patient care setting. We reach toward and push aside caution to ensure that our patients and their families have the best that we can give. From the very beginning of Covid, each one of us knew the risk. August 2021 was my turn.

On a Friday in August, Covid snuck itself into my body. The following Tuesday came the realization that after 20 months of working with Covid patients, I was now a Covid patient. I have comorbidities that put me in a higher risk category. I do not regret my choices nor my sacrifice. All we have is the care we give to others and the sacrifices we make to better the lives of those around us. My faith is strong, and my support system is on a firm foundation.

I didn’t feel great, but I didn’t feel horrible. I admit to a false sense of security that my Covid was a mild case, and like I have done my whole life, I continued to care for my family and my responsibilities.
The following Sunday, I noticed a change. I felt worse, and my cough was a little wetter, my fatigue more impairing. We knew I needed to be seen by Monday, so we took our first trip to the ER. Labs, chest x-ray, IV fluids, breathing treatments were administered, and we all felt comfortable for my return home.
Unfortunately, we still have an incomplete picture of how Covid attacks the body. After months of caring for Covid patients and now after having it myself, I believe that Covid attacks the central nervous system as it causes generalized inflammation in the body. While all tests indicated I was holding my own, my body wasn’t so confident. As I became sicker I lost track of time at home, as my appetite dwindled, I became more lethargic, forgetting to hydrate. My time became a heavy blanket that dragged me down, making every effort feel like I was wading through the ocean. By Wednesday, we knew we had to return to the ER. Once again, Vern dropped me off at the doors and waited in the parking lot while tests were performed. This time it was clear that the inflammation was overcoming my lung’s ability to function.


Covid pneumonia covers the inside of the lungs with a spiderweb of infiltrates, causing tightness and pain when breathing. As a result, it becomes difficult for your body to oxygenate, and your oxygen saturation levels drop. If not caught and treated quickly, the body starts to experience failure. There are specific lab values that we identify as markers for severe covid disease. Ferritin and LDH levels spike, liver enzymes indicate acute liver damage, severe dehydration and hypoxia set in, and the heart bears the stress of circulatory collapse. In turn, pain increases, appetite diminishes, and lethargy is so complete that even drinking fluids is too much. This is about the time that the emotional and psychological despair sets in, and you begin to contemplate what the future holds. It isn’t a good headspace, and for those who are severely ill, on high-flow, have dealt with long-term chronic illness, being secluded in their room without the support of friends and family, the will to live can start to slip away.


I was admitted to Med-Surg on low-flow oxygen, and we started to work on getting me through the next few days. We threw every treatment we had at Covid. I can’t speak highly enough about my coworkers and friends; they are amazing at their jobs and wonderfully caring. Even though I was in isolation, I was being checked on and cared for. Day 3 was the hardest, and I spent quite a bit of that day in tears feeling alone and sad. I felt loneliness, despair, and immense sadness.


My hospitalization lasted 4 days. On the 4th day, we decided that it would be better for my mental health to be home with my family. I was still on oxygen, but we could set up resources, and I went home.
Going home didn’t fix things. I was still sick, still weak, and my family was still battling Covid. It would be 15 days of oxygen, a cardiac echo, doctor’s appointments, chest x-ray, CT scan, and lung function testing. Others have had their own journey that has taken longer, or was more severe.

I’m happy to say we have all recovered. You could say I was blessed or lucky; however, I have worked diligently using nutrition, homeopathy, herbs, and essential oils to both prevent illness and give my body the tools to fight infection should it occur. I utilized my resources and went for help when I worsened. I didn’t wait because I knew waiting increases severity and the risk of intubation and death. As I told my friends and family, Covid was not winning this fight! Do not doubt that I know things could have been different. There is no guarantee in this life.

This post is dedicated to those fighting disease and those that support them. No matter what we do in life, disease finds us. Illness occurs. Covid is just one of hundreds of diseases that change our lives. No one is exempt. I do not know why some are cured, and others are not. Nor do I understand why some live and some die. What I do know is that no matter the challenge we face, those who love us help us carry our burdens and help bring us peace and joy. I can’t thank those special people in our lives enough. They are truly angels!!!!