Categories
Weekly Update

Tour de Midwest

We spent the month of July in the Midwest- 3 weeks in Minnesota, and 10 days in Iowa & Missouri. While we traveled, I worked on an article for a parenting website entitled, “How to travel with kids- don’t”.

Post 3 hour flight to Minneapolis

We have traveled with the girls since they were born- pretty regularly, I might add. And while some trips are magical, most are not. Each time we pack up for another trip, I feel like I am playing a form of Russian Roulette: will this trip be magical or miserable?

Maybe it’s how my brain works- to categorize a memory as great or horrible, when in reality, it falls somewhere in the middle. Traveling with kids can take you to some of the highest highs- experiencing beautiful moments together. And it can also bring you to the lowest of lows- food poisoning induced projectile vomiting at the same time as explosive diarrhea, on the nasty floor of a hotel bathroom. But mostly, travel with kids brings you to a lot of ordinary, meh, moments.

The kind where kids ask how much longer at the beginning of a 10-hour road trip, the monotony of foraging for the apple pie Larabars in foreign grocery stores, the grumpiness that ensues over the course of adjusting to a time change.

How Alice really felt

All this to say, while I could write about our travels out of the magical lens, I can assure you they were not.

We spent a lot of time “traveling” on this trip, despite flying to Minnesota to reduce travel time. I think as a mom, I spend an inordinate amount of time planning and worrying about the transitions- the logistics of moving a months worth of luggage into the car, out of the car, into the airport, getting the family through security, going potty enough times before boarding the plane, getting off the plane, getting to the baggage claim without losing a child, retrieving a large amount of luggage, acquiring a rental car, moving luggage and children to the rental car, driving to VRBO, moving the luggage (AGAIN)….. blah, blah, blah.

AND YET.

We were able to see our families, and the girls got a lot of good quality time with people they otherwise wouldn’t have a chance to see. They camped with the Uppgaard grandparents, visited aunts & uncles, played with cousins, and spent a week at a cabin up in northern Minnesota.

We celebrated my Dad’s retirement at a truly magical surprise party. Fireflies made their appearance as the sky darkened and toasts were made. All the more magical? We got a babysitter for the kids that night.

On our last day in Minnesota, we learned Alice had COVID. And then I tested positive. And then Avery got it. Chad somehow remained immune.

Luckily, my in-laws had an exposure prior to our arrival… so we all holed up at their cabin in Missouri. We tubed, went on boat rides, and fished. I love running the hills in Missouri, but unfortunately, COVID dashed my running dreams.

In Iowa, we went to the county fair, watched the hot air balloons, visited the cows, looked at soybean plants up close (have you ever?), and played in the sprawling yard.

Iowa beauty

Throughout the trip, I read Jane Eyre. And a quote that struck me was, “There is no happiness like that of being loved by your fellow-creatures, and feeling that your presence is an addition to their comfort.”

And I think that quote perfectly sums up how I felt about spending a month with family. It was a month of being loved by people we don’t see nearly enough. It was a cram session of memories, a hustle to see all the people we love, it was lying on the couch late at night re-living childhood memories with my siblings, countless times of yelling, “Reel, reel!” as I watched Alice’s bobber slip beneath the surface.

It was a drinking from the fire-hose kind of trip. It was listening to four Nancy Drew audiobooks on car rides, it was Chad vowing he would never listen to another Nancy Drew. By the end of the trip, we were bleary-eyed and so ready to be in our own beds.

5am airport, bleary-eyed, and ready to be home

Or as I told Chad, I was so ready to be home so I could be grumpy, and let down my “on-personality mask.”

We have been home for three weeks. I got my grumpy out (sorry Chad), and have never loved my bed quite so much.

I will leave you with a poem I wrote on a dock in Minnesota:

Attention

The loon calls

As the last rays of sun stretch through the sky

Creating contrast, definition

Anchoring 

.

The trees with their leaves

Now black, against the horizon

Clouds above 

Waves lapping below

.

A bird trills

And a fisher casts his rod

Line, whooshing 

Horseflies dive bomb 

.

I am minute 

in this wild world

.

The sky is pink, 

Clouds purple

Horizon still pierced by rays

.

The colors are pastel,

The air is matte

Ducks swim home through the reeds

.

I am contributing nothing to this moment

But my attention

And for a moment,

All is right

MN Sunset
Categories
Journalism

Travel Nursing: Minimal Travel Required

This is an article I wrote for a journalism class. Though I didn’t end up successfully publishing it, I wanted to post it here. Writing this was a great educational experience, and I could not have done it without the gracious help of many healthcare providers. To everyone who shared their story with me, I am so grateful.

Before COVID-19, travel nurse Brooke Gozdiff says there were three types of travel nurses: “the young and fun, the empty-nesters with motor homes, and the diverters.” But now? Now, it is “Anybody and everybody,” she says. ” If I’m going to work short-staffed in a shitty job and have a crummy work-culture and work-life balance, why wouldn’t I do it greater than one hour away and make a ton more money?”

Brooke and her husband James Gozdiff both began travel nursing in 2014, a couple of years before they met. Brooke left her position as a floor nurse at Mayo in Rochester, Minnesota, and James left his job as an ICU staff nurse in Idaho. Since then, they’ve leveraged travel nursing to fit around their lifestyle rather than mold their lives around their career. And they understand a part of travel nursing that the general public doesn’t: nurses don’t need to travel far to receive travel pay. The Gozdiffs are part of a growing number of people reaping the benefits of travel nursing without much travel.

The boom in travel nursing didn’t take a rocket scientist to predict. According to a study conducted in 2015 by Montana State University healthcare economists, almost 40% of nurses were older than fifty. So they were well on their way to retirement by the time the first group of patients presented with shortness of breath and fever in Wuhan, China in December of 2019.

Initially, hospital censuses decreased as people who would ordinarily seek treatment stayed home. And staffing was stable, with some nurses even able to take advantage of the Family Medical Leave Act (FMLA) to protect their families during the hospital mask shortages of 2020.

Jennifer Higgins, Chief Nursing Officer at Lee Health located in Southwest Florida, explains that when the initial shock of a global pandemic wore off, Lee Health was bombarded with volumes of patients they had never seen before. And these weren’t your stay-a-night-for-observation kind of patients. These were your, holy-crap-she’s-gonna-crash, in need of an ICU bed, kind of patients. Higgins says that while they expanded their ICUs, they didn’t have the ICU-trained nurses they needed to run the units.

They needed more nurses, but so did every other hospital. Desperate, hospitals began offering increased salaries to lure in travel nurses. According to Indeed.com, a job search engine, the average salary for travel nurses in 2021 was $113,600, whereas the average registered nurse made around $80,500. Not only were hospitals paying their travel nurses more, but this pay was structured differently than that of the staff nurses.

Brooke Gozdiff explains that travel nurses receive two different kinds of income: their paycheck and their tax-free stipend. The tax-free stipend covers the secondary living expenses that the nurses accrue while traveling. This money is, just like it sounds, not taxed. So when travel nurses negotiate their salaries, they want their paycheck to be as low as possible, lumping as much money as they are allowed into their tax-free stipend.

But not just anyone can take advantage of the tax-free stipend. According to the IRS, if a nurse needs to sleep and rest outside of his or her tax home between shifts, he or she can qualify for the tax-free stipend. Joseph Conte, a tax-certified public accountant for travel nurses, says that a tax home is typically where a person accrues their income. But because travel nurses frequently move around, their tax home is often where their permanent home is located. Per IRS rules, the nurse must also continue to pay bills on their permanent home and visit it at least once per year, as the tax-free stipend is meant to cover duplicate living expenses.

Conte explains that often companies simplify matters by using a specific mileage rule to determine whether or not their employee can take advantage of the tax-free stipend. The Gozdiffs are familiar with “the 50-mile rule”: the nurse needs to live more than 50 miles from the hospital where they are travel nursing. Conte confirms that the 50-mile rule is not an IRS rule, and he points out that by IRS standards, nurses could live even closer than 50 miles to the hospital if they need to stop to sleep at a spot away from their tax home.

Conte says the volume of nurses taking advantage of local travel assignments has increased significantly over the past two years. This short-distance travel is known as local travel nursing, and it gives the nurses the best of both worlds.

The Gozdiffs are among the increasing number of local travel nurses. While they initially traveled across the country for job opportunities, they are now traveling close to home. Brooke explains their journey with travel nursing in her rapid-fire speech pattern while their one-year-old son naps. Back in her young and fun travel nurse days, Brooke met James, also a travel nurse, at a hospital in Puyallup, Washington. After that, they were inseparable, working together in Arizona, Nebraska, Maine, and Alaska. James proposed in Minnesota, and they married in Oregon.

Before COVID-19 hit, Brooke explains they couldn’t be too picky about placement for travel positions. But now she says, “Every hospital everywhere is hiring travel nurses because every hospital is short. The career is now nurse-driven vs. hospital-driven. You get to pick and choose. You lay out your demands and expect them to be met.” James ballparks that the average travel nurse rakes in $4,000 per week, while staff nurses bring home around $1500. So it is no surprise when he says, “The draw for everybody for travel is just the pay.”

But sometimes, money isn’t everything. After having a baby, the Gozdiffs wanted to be closer to family, so they settled down in Duluth, MN, where they took a break from travel nursing. James took a staff position as a nurse supervisor at Essentia Health. It was there that he watched as nurses from Duluth left their staff positions to cash in on travel positions 154 miles south in Minneapolis, MN. And sure enough, guess who showed up to fill the travel positions now open at Essentia Health in Duluth?

None other than the Minneapolis nurses.

Back at Lee Health, ICU nurse supervisor Betsy Groendyke confirms that the same trend is occurring. Many of their travel nurses come from Tampa, FL, and drive two hours south for their shifts. During COVID-19, her unit doubled the number of travel nurses they were utilizing. When the Delta wave hit, she says, “There were multiple shifts where every nurse had three vented COVID patients. When you have vented ICU patients on multiple drips, you want a two to one [patient to nurse] staffing ratio. And actually, we’ve read things where the best practice for these proning patients [patients who are on a ventilator and need to be positioned lying on their stomachs] is a one-to-one ratio. Well, that wasn’t even a remote option.” Beyond the logistics, they faced an emotional impact. Groendyke recalls a weekend when her ICU lost fifteen patients, “If that doesn’t impact you, then you don’t have a heart.”

And while nurses are used to shouldering the emotional burden, Higgins says, “Many nurses began to evaluate whether they wanted to continue in the profession, be exposed, and have their families exposed to this new variant that was very unknown.” She watched as nurses retired early or left the field of nursing entirely.

Higgins estimates that Lee Health brought on 350-400 travel nurses in 2021, compared to the seventy seasonal travel nurses they typically bring on from November to April when there is a seasonal population increase. She admits, “Most organizations are not going to be able to sustain a model like this. The only reason we were able to is because of the [high] volume [of patients] that offset that cost. But in the long run, long term, it’s not going to be the solution. We are going to have to figure out ways to make sure we keep our core people.”

One way Lee Health is doing this is by offering bonuses and extra shift incentive pay to their staff nurses. They also started bringing in a different food truck each day to prevent cafeteria food burnout and giving $5 gift cards to the hospital coffee shop to recognize staff members for a job well done.

Higgins thinks, “the market will settle down a little bit, but I think there will always be an increased pool of people that are willing to take the risk of being a travel nurse- taking advantage of the money aspect of it.”

Others are not so optimistic. Julia, a nurse who left Lee Health to travel two hours north, and requests to only be identified by her first name, says, “A lot of nurses are tired of being staff. We’ve set ourselves up for, at least, a few years of a complete disaster when it comes to staffing, even if the pandemic ends.”

Now back in Oregon, Brooke Gozdiff drives just over 50 miles away from their home in Keizer to work as a travel nurse. She makes triple what she would if she worked as a staff nurse in Keizer, Oregon. She supports the family on a single income, while James takes care of their one-year-old son and his mom, who was recently diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. Travel nursing provides her and James with flexibility, adventure, and a cash flow that few other careers could provide.

But the Gozdiffs believe that travel nursing should be the exception, not the rule. James says, “I hope that people come back to the hospital systems because having a core staff that is highly qualified and highly trained and has worked together for years is ideal. The hospital and the unit run so much better when they don’t have a high percentage of travelers. Healthcare is better when you have a high number of staff.”

Categories
Weekly Update

Vast, Like the Trees

After making our descent over the orderly grid blocks of Minneapolis containing houses and trees with changing leaves, we touched down on the MSP Airport tarmac.

Our suitcases were packed with a contrasting mix of dress clothes- black, for my Grandma’s funeral, and white flower girl dresses for my brother and sister-in-law’s wedding.

I was anxious about this trip: the last time we flew into Minneapolis was disastrous- Alice puking on the flight and dry heaving in the rental car, which prompted Avery to faint, and then sympathy puke.

But as we pulled out of the rental car lot, I exhaled. The trip had gone without a hitch.

The first thing I always notice when driving out of the rental car lots in Minnesota is the trees. They are tall and wide, expanding, the antithesis of the skinny palm trees that linger awkwardly, mop heads blowing in the wind. The oak and maple trees are wild and audacious– a stark contrast to the manicured trees of Florida, who are hesitant to grow just an inch outside of their preconceived outline. And I like that a lot. The trees of Minnesota have a lot to teach.

My Grandma passed away over a year ago, yet with the timing of COVID, we were unable to have a funeral. I was beyond the waves of tearful grief hitting at unexpected times, I could talk about her without crying, and it seemed as if grief had run its course.

Her zebra print swimsuit is framed in the bathroom that leads out to our pool. Her blue flowered china is neatly stacked in my cabinets. I have voicemails from her saved, asking if I could please, for the love of all things holy, deposit the check she gave me 3 years ago so she could balance her checkbook. She is no longer here- but she is remembered daily.

It seemed odd, gathering so late after her death, to mourn something that had ripped our hearts apart long ago. The wounds had scarred over and it seemed as if there was nothing left to heal.

But as the pastor delivered the sermon at her memorial, grief washed over me again- filling my chest and eyes with the heavy, crushing feeling.

I tried to hold back the tears, but they still found a way to slip out. And in case you haven’t tried it yet, crying in a mask is messy business.

When it came time to bury her ashes, I had a chance to hold the urn containing the grains that made up who she was. It was odd- holding every ounce of the feisty, vivacious person I knew, now a silent mound of dust.

But there was an indescribable peacefulness.

As we stood in a half circle around her urn, with the pastor uttering the final blessings, a warm wind that was powerful yet gentle wrapped around us. And I knew, that she was there.

I remembered a long run I had gone on soon after she had passed. I could feel her presence deeply, and had talked to her as the miles ticked by. “Hi, G,” I had whispered on an exhale. The wind gusted around me.

The pastor reminded us that Grandma or as we fondly refer to her- G-Dizzle, would live on through us. We all carry different aspects of her from the imprint she left on our lives.

For me, it is the love of pinot grigio, a dry sense of humor, and the pointer finger that comes out when I get fired up.

As I said my final goodbye, hand pressed against the wooden box containing her earthly remains, I was reminded that pain is rooted in love. That the heartbreak I was experiencing was because of the deep love we had shared.

And I wouldn’t trade an ounce of the pain in exchange for the beauty that my world holds because she was in it.

Two days later, I watched my brother and sister-in-law exchange vows under the silver maple trees lining the Mississippi river. I watched a leaf float down from the tree, released from its duties. The wind caught it and guided it to the ground in a zig-zag, fluttery pattern.

I was sitting between my nieces and nephews- little Abigail, less than 2 weeks old. The moment contained it all. Love, new life, loss, joy, peace, and beauty, oh the beauty.

And it was vast, like the silver maples.

Categories
Weekly Update

From the Middle

I recently finished reading Empty, by Susan Burton, who wrote about her life-long struggles with eating disorders; mainly, fluctuating between binging and anorexia.

Her story isn’t unique. Plenty of people have disordered thoughts and actions related to eating, on a wide spectrum of severity.

What is unique about the book is that the author wrote it from the middle of her struggle. She is not recovered and looking back with new-found wisdom. She bravely chose to tell her story “as is”, from a spot of struggle, not clarity.


What I’ve come to appreciate through blogging is that writing is a medium of art. The same story can be told from billions of different perspectives. It can be spun into different webs; it can be interpreted in completely different lights. The same event can make one person laugh and another person cry.

Stories are easiest to tell retrospectively, when you finally have a chance to look back. It is easiest to find the meaning; and certainly, have a clearer perspective once you are out of the heat of the moment.

But what about the middle? It makes up most of our life. We spend a much higher percentage of time in “middle moments” than in “end moments”.


Since our return to Florida, I’ve been trying to embrace the pea- soup- thick humidity that has descended upon us. Last week, I (stupidly) slept in one morning and wasn’t able to sneak out for a run until Chad was able to watch the girls… at 1pm.

The heat was disgusting. Even “easy pace” felt difficult. As I was slogging along, encapsulated in 114 degree heat, and in a pretty negative mindset about how horrible this was, I was passed by a landscaping golf cart.

Immediately the golf cart fumes and scent of freshly cut grass transported me back in time to the days of high school cross country. It’s funny how a smell can do that.

Whenever I think of high school cross country, I get a slightly nauseated, slightly anxious, nostalgic feeling that spreads through my body. Sounds weird, but I’m guessing most people who have participated in a pain inducing sport can relate.

This scent trigger brought my mind back to a day we were on the track, running repeat 300’s. 300 meters is a gross distance. It’s short enough where you should be able to sprint, but long enough that you feel like you want to die.

Our coach at that time was Mr. Rod. Mr. Rod was tall, funny, and innately understood the pain that running could induce. As we struggled through the workout, he gathered us up for a pep talk.

I’m sure we all had looks of hatred on our faces- he wrote the workout after all. There was no need for him to acknowledge the pain we were in; that was baseline knowledge, punctuated by someone puking in the background.

He simply said, “Break it down. Run the first 100 fast, float in the middle, and sprint the last 100.” Some angsty teenager asked with attitude that only a teenager can have, “What do you mean float?” To which Mr. Rod replied with a smile, “Just pretend you’re floating.”

Sounded pretty stupid to me.

But, given that I was on deaths door, I tried the floating idea.

The crazy thing was, when I envisioned myself floating in the middle of the last couple 300’s, it felt a hundred times easier, and yet somehow I was still running just as fast.


And just like then, I find myself in the middle. Given the large number of new COVID cases in Florida, we are back to quarantine, in the house, with young kids.

I keep wishing to find myself at the end of this COVID story- to be able to look back, smile, and find some inspirational meaning.

But for now, I find myself in the middle and to be blatantly honest, I’m not floating. The days are filled with tantrums (by the kids and me) and messes. I’m covering the positions of line cook, maid, therapist, anger management coach, teacher, friend, enemy, mother, and wife.

My story from the middle isn’t inspirational, I would say it’s more of a “what not to” story. Making a necklace would be cute but beads bounce all over the house and look suspiciously like candy. Running in 114 degree heat after eating tacos NEVER ENDS WELL. 3 year olds CANNOT BE REASONED WITH. Crafts that are found on Pinterest rarely turn out as well as the promising pictures <liars>.

My story from the middle is messy. (Literally and figuratively, ok?) It’s not something that people will read and say, “I really want to try that! Sounds like she has her life figured out!”

So for now, I’m going to break it down into 100’s and try to float.

Off to Target to buy floaties… and wine. Lots of wine.

Laura

Categories
Weekly Update

Fireflies

We just returned from a 10 day trip to Iowa and Missouri to spend time with Chad’s family.

The trip was motivated by 1) our love for our family and 2) an urgent need to escape the confines of our condo and go somewhere that the girls could run free for awhile.

The trip was exactly what we needed.

We were greeted by cool weather by our standards… the kind of weather that doesn’t induce sweating within your first minute outside. The air felt crisp to us Floridians, and we enjoyed humidity free sunshine.

Chad’s family has a cabin on a lake in Missouri, about 2 hours from their farm in Iowa. We spent most of our trip at the cabin, logging many hours cruising around the lake in the pontoon, swimming in the water (without fear of alligators), and fishing.

We soaked in family time. Our days didn’t adhere to the schedule that normally dictates our lives. We spent long hours on the water, pausing to eat when we got hungry and rest when we were tired.

I took advantage of the beautiful cool weather and explored Missouri on my morning runs. For those unfamiliar with the geography of Florida, it’s about as flat as it gets. Missouri on the other hand? Rolling hills. Never. Ending. Massive. Huge. Painful. Mountain-like, hills.

I have a weird love for running hills. I love how running hills is so painful that you can’t think about your whole run at once- otherwise you’d die just at the thought of it.

I don’t even try to take it one hill at a time… I break up each hill: “To the next mail box” and then, “to that clump of yellow flowers” next, “to the shadow of that tree”.

Hills require intense focus. Your mind doesn’t can’t wander to think about the long list of “to-do’s” or rewind to replay an argument you recently had, or ruminate on the latest issue that requires solving.

No, your brain is stuck in the moment. It is stuck on the next tiny chunk of road that requires focus. Your legs burn, and your lungs feel like they are about to explode. And right when you feel like you are on the doorstep of death, the road slowly flattens, your heart keeps beating, and your legs carry on.

The focus that hills require becomes almost meditative. With the chatter of the brain quieted by the hill induced exhaustion, you find yourself present; available to face any passing thoughts without judgement.

…………………………………………

We spent our final night of the trip in Iowa so the girls could spend some time on the farm the following morning. Chad and I had a couple of errands to run to move around some of our things in storage.

We were driving at dusk, bumping over dirt roads and soaking in the views of mist covered fields with dark purple clouds billowing above.

I was transfixed by the quiet beauty of Iowa when Chad asked, “Do you see them?”

“See what?” I asked.

“Fireflies.”

I blinked and shifted my focus toward the fields. Sure enough, I watched as tiny twinkling lights arose from the fields in the thousands. I’ve never seen that many fireflies at one time.

“It’s magical” I whispered, not wanting the moment to end.

“They kind of stink,” he said, with a smirk.

“WHAT?” I asked, hoping I didn’t hear him right.

“Every time they pass gas, they light up,” he said with a wide smile.

The moment was officially ruined.

…………………………………

Traveling during a pandemic is about what we expected. People were not required to wear masks in the airport or on the airplane- if I had to guess, I’d say around 50% of people wore masks.

Surprisingly, the flight attendants were not required to wear masks. The ones who did wear them would take them off when they talked. I wanted to yell, “YOU’RE DEFEATING THE ENTIRE PURPOSE”… but I didn’t… because Alice had pulled down her own mask to eat a lollipop, and then lick her sticky fingers.

We tried to be as careful as possible, but… kids will be kids. Alice was intrigued by the plastic toilet seat cover in the airport. So intrigued, in fact, that I caught her stroking the crinkly toilet seat cover. Meanwhile, Avery found her joy by using the powerful hand dryers to get a professional grade blow out.

Don’t worry though, we had lots of “Hamitizer” (hand sanitizer), and we used it.

And that, my friends, is our update. We are back in FL and re-adjusting to life post vacation. COVID is rampant here, so we are doing our best to remain safe.

Love to all,

Laura