March 15, 2014

So there I was, feet in stirrups, Gynecologist looking over the shoulder of a tall, lanky medical student named Chip or Scooter or something else very "argyle" like, who happened to be all up in my lady business. Let's just put it this way, "Biff" wasn't the first man to get lost in those parts! NO no no..my woman-ness isn't some cavernous vault to go spelunking in.. but it's such an odd thing and I'm here to discuss this taboo subject. (Sorry Mom!) Was it Charlotte on Sex in the City that had never taken a look in the mirror at her nether-region-?? and she finally did and it of course wasn't the scary, awful place that she expected. I don't really remember the first time I dared to look. I do remember the first time I used a tampon and I walked around for two hours with the cardboard applicator still in, horrified at how it felt, and worried sick I would have to sit down (but still secretly pleased that I became 'a woman' before my older sister!). Did anyone else look at the silly instructions where the drawn figure has her leg on a toilet seat? What is this toilet bowl twister? Pitiful. I did have to go back and read the instructions thoroughly so I finally did get it right.. man, you would think that I learned this lesson all too well from this one experience, but NO...I'll try and put the damn bookcase, laundry rolling cart, or any other put it together yourself torture device without reading the instructions.. yes. I might have a drawer with miscellaneous unused pieces. yikes.

Anyway..off topic..redirect, REDIRECT!

I was painfully shy when it came to my body. I remember hearing how some high schools made the kids shower after PE.. I would rather have died than be seen, you know, naked, by anyone! Even changing was embarrassing, hell just peeing in a bathroom where others could hear was hard enough!! I remember we teased a girl on our high school volleyball and basketball team because she was also very shy...but I was right there with her. God Bless you S.S. :-) well S.C. now.

Losing my virginity was, in my memory, kind of like the final piece to a jigsaw puzzle. It wasn't a huge deal, it wasn't NOT important, but looking back I think I was unimpressed about all the hoopla surrounding it. Like that one GREAT MOVIE everyone talks about...and after you see it, you kind of scratch your head and say, ok then..now what? Again, I didn't have a clue what being a woman meant, or even what being intimate could really mean. And Pleasure? please...no freaking clue. How would I know? My baby maker was a source of embarrassment and fear. Don't touch it, you might lose your hand!

I learned a lot about sexuality from Sex and the City. Believe it or not, it was "The Rabbit" that introduced me to pleasure. Who knew! The buzz on the street was that I wasn't the only one enjoying the battery operated boyfriend. I was such a prude too... shut up, I was! I remember the horrifying experience of  bacterial vaginosis. Or like I prefer to call it..hot trash in the hoo ha from a hot tub. The foulest, most sickening smell ever AND it was coming from ssshhh down there. For the love of God and all that was holy I could not keep my legs together tight enough without smelling it and there was no amount of scrubbing and cleaning to make it go away. So that little gem of an experience made me paranoid about what I smelled like! How was sex ever going to be enjoyable with all these issues! (antibiotics cleared it up, fyi). And wait.. oral sex? Now I have to worry about the taste? For Heaven's Sake someone just shoot me. In my personal opinion, you could remove my entire torso and I would live happily ever after. It's too much pressure!!! Now

I haven't had children, or any sort of shape altering experience in my genital area, but if I had ever had kids and people were gonna be focused on that particular part of my body, and afterwords it might not "snap back" to the way it was before...just forget about it. Where's the convent? sign me up, they drink wine right?

I'm happy to say I'm a somewhat reformed prude. I have had some men in my life who have pretty much forced me to see the beauty in my body, and taught me to relax with my clothes off. I still don't get it, or see it as "a turn on, or sexy" but hey whatever shoots the flag pole up works for me!

Dear Vagina,

We've come a long way baby. Who knew all this time that you really just wanted to feel loved and adored. To feel like you were part of the team. I apologize for using you as a means of attention, as some sort of prize for someone else to have, when all along it was my acceptance and trust in you that mattered. 

I'll try to be better. OH, and sorry about that whole painful IUD thing, but neither of us want to ruin this new found relationship!

Your Faithful Servant,

Brooke-I-just-blogged-about-my-vagina-Albertson

February 16, 2014

So there I was watching '42' ..the story of Jackie Robinson's first year in Major League baseball. I thought to myself, how awful it must have been to have to deal with such ignorant and simple minded people. Just like most things in the past, I could relate it to the world today. The "racism" continues between all skin colors, ethnicities, social classes, sexual preferences, zip codes, education levels...the list goes on and on. I know in my life and the world I live in there is something inherently unfair going on.  I'm ashamed that I make assumptions about people. Pierced and tattooed might be your trigger for judgment. Maybe it's the person's hairstyle or the music they listen to that sends you into categorizing other people into some unspoken hierarchy of the worthy or unworthy, the dumb or the smart, the rich or the poor, the have or the have not. Working in the healthcare industry there is always an undercurrent of it- judgment. Shopping in certain stores, buying gas in certain neighborhoods, drinking at certain bars has put me in the position of being judged. Being divorced twice; 37 without children; JUST finishing my Bachelors degree; driving a hybrid; taking anti-depressants; living in Indiana; BEING from Indiana; being from the United States. There are stereotypes and labels and expectations with every adjective that can be used when talking of me. Maybe some people think that my joking nature and easy laughter make me flaky or even less intelligent than someone more serious or proper (a Physician colleague I feel made this assumption and has been pleasantly surprised at my intelligence). Speaking of work, the most beautiful thing happened just the other day. A co-worker had a patient who was coming out of anesthesia and the patient was not doing well in the emergence of it. Imagine waking up with a tube in your throat, coughing and gagging, not getting your breath and your hands are tied down and all the while your chest feels like it is being torn apart. Holy hell that is one sure fire way to make ME go bat shit crazy. Between the ventilator, the blood pressure alarms, the pain medications, and making calls to the appropriate person, I knew she could use a FEW more hands to say the least. The patient needed a sense of calm. The patient needed to gain trust that he was going to be fine. He needed to know that what he was going through was temporary and very normal. I spoke softly, wiped his face, his tears, and went about doing the "nursing" things that he needed right then that I could provide. Reassuring him, coaching him on how to breathe and when it was all over with, the nurse asked if I was mad at her. I laughed and said heavens no. I get that a lot actually. There are times in life, in work that my attention and focus is so all encompassing of something that people often mistake my intensity for anger or some sort of emotional upset. To see that layer of my personality is something new I suppose. To see me cry; yell; talk sweet to my niece and nephew; to hold the hand of a dying man and pray. To know that I like to meditate, walk quietly through the woods, to sit pensively with my thoughts- probably doesn't seem to fit the person that some people have gotten to know.
Now, if there are so many varied aspects to me, even to the people who know me, work with me-  and even THEIR judgments of me are off, imagine just how off our judgments are of people we have never even met, or have only met in a certain light. Even hearing from someone else, an opinion of another, is never likely to be a 100% accurate assessment, probably not even 50%. What are we afraid of; what do we possibly have to lose by reserving judgment until we experience first hand what it is we are judging?
"Golf and skiing are for rich snobs"
"Sushi is eaten by people who are fake and wanna look like they are important"
"Only drug addicts have a lot of tattoos and piercings"
"People join the military because they aren't smart enough to go to college"
"People on welfare are lazy and don't want to work"
"Hispanics are all here illegally and are taking all of our jobs"
"People who are overweight are slobs and probably smell bad and have dirty houses"
"That person who doesn't speak English very well is obviously ignorant"
"Vegetarians are hippie tree huggers"
"Those self aware, meditating people just like to smoke pot and escape life"
"Anyone who listens to Country music is an inbred hillbilly"
"That tall guy must be good at basketball"
"That pit bull is dangerous"
"That 'cripple' in the wheelchair probably has the mental capacity of a 3 year old"
"That person is on TV and must be really nice in real life"
"That beggar is just some low life alcoholic that wants beer money"
"Catholics are alcoholic snobs"
"Muslims are evil terrorists"
"Asians are smart and all the same"
Any of these sound familiar?
Anyone think it's time to look at our own individual beliefs that are outdated, unfounded and of no use? I hope so.

Dear Lord,
Thanks for the insight. I am starting to get the hang of this whole..."life is a lesson to learn and grow from".
YFS, Brooke

December 14, 2013

I sometimes try and think about what it is that I'm doing with my life. I get caught up in these big screen thoughts of purpose and meaning. I see visions of people I feel have/had purpose- Oprah- Gandhi- Martin Luther King, Jr- animal savers- Soldiers- and I can't get my mind around what the hell I'm doing. It's taken me some time to realize that the "what" isn't  actually some big bulk of future calendar pages that will mark my selfless mission to do something "meaningful". There won't be a tournament in my future that I will participate in to some how prove my worth to the world. I'm not sure if others think about this stuff. I would imagine they do, but to what extent is unknown to me. 

I'm a self described geek. I like the ideas of big thinkers. Learning the why of how some people think. How Zappos is the best customer service company in the world, how Disney is the happiest place on Earth. I read the books- ate them up. To be so effective on such a large scale is phenomenal.

So you can imagine my thrill that IU Health contracted the Disney Institute to help build a better company, a more satisfied staff, and I'll venture to guess a lower bottom line. My chance to see "it" in action. So exciting! Well- you can imagine my surprise to hear lots of grumbling and negativity around the staff having to attend the very thing I am so excited to be a part of- and after they attended it being more negative and crotchety for having to waste 2 hours of their time. WHAT?!!?? I feel so defensive about it like it is a personal attack on me. Of course it isn't but what gives?

I haven't been to "Strength Training" (as it's called). So I don't know what that 2 hours would look like to me. 2 more hours of pay. That's the only thing I can guarantee. So maybe it isn't fair of me to get on a soap box about it...but seeing that I actually read the Disney Leadership book..I think it gives me some credibility.

It's not about the paycheck people. It's not. This community of ours..you know as co-workers, is going to go through ups and downs, cut backs and growth, and at the end of the day what you are making a living at can actually be more meaningful and fulfilling to you if you want it to be. Our "Purpose in Life" isn't some distant event, it is in the very essence of who we are and what we do in our everyday life. It's holding the elevator. It's saying Thank You and what can I do for you. Our hospital is our home away from home. Pick up trash you might see on the floor because you have pride in YOURSELF, not the hospital. Do you want to be someone who has a mentality of "it's not MY job" or do you want to be someone who understands the value of small selfless acts. To hide in a corner during your shift and browse online because your JOB is done? Or maybe you want to be the person who sees that doing a few simple things can make a big difference for your co-workers and your patients? To be held in high esteem for your ....shall I call it kindness..of being someone that people WANT to work with..who WANT to be on your team. It's not a ME society anymore. It's an US. Those hospital beds have plenty of our own in them. When it's my turn to be a patient instead of a nurse I want caring nurses and you're fooling yourself if you think that caring only happens at the bedside. 

Thanks Tony Hseih and Walt Disney for inspiring me to want to be better.

Sincerely,

Brooke Albertson

November 4, 2013

To My Mother- Laurel Ann
You are celebrated today. Loved a little extra by those near you and by those across the miles. Having lived on this earth with you for 37 years, I know that there will be a quiet spot in your soul where you will visit today to compare where you are with where you thought you should be, would be, could be. Angry, sad, and maybe bitter for the life that you left un-lived, rehashing choices for a few breaths but in those final moments in that quiet seat of your soul, you'll feel grateful that you are still here. Trey will say to you "Nina- Happy Birthday" and you will Thank God that your life brought you to this very moment.
My eyes fill with tears, thinking that one day you will pass from this Earth, and I fear you'll never know what you meant to me and to the world.
You are Mom.  No wiggle room to be human. You had to be stronger. You had to be resilient. You had to be above emotions, pain, sickness, frustration and exhaustion. I try to remember you in my childhood as carefree...but you never allowed yourself that luxury. You were protector and savior. Cheerleader. Boss. You weren't just Mom, you were also Dad. Doing what had to be done. I can count on one hand the number of times I've heard you raise your voice, in 37 years. When inside, a war had to have been raging. And as children, teenagers, adults- your daughters always think we know more than you. How completely ridiculous of us.  The breadth of your patience and the depth of your forgiveness are greater than anyone I have ever met. You are one gracious woman.
Your style and tastes are such a testament to who you are in this world. You take something that was worn down, left behind, and thought to be unusable and you breathe new life into it. You give it a new purpose. You champion it's usefulness and introduce it back into the world. You've done this to old windows, doors, cans, records, vases, jars..and even me. In your eyes, everything deserves a second chance.
At my age, I'm not sure I will ever have children. I will never get the chance to take them school shopping, out for ice cream, trips to Florida, and my biggest regret would be that I would never get to mimic your sing song voice saying "Good Morrrrrrnnning, it's time to get uuuupppp!"
I love you Mom. Everyday. Happy Birthday.

Dear Lord,
Thank you for letting me share my life with such a truly amazing woman. Thank you for sending me someone to teach me about compassion, patience, strength, and beauty. A woman who's work ethic I am proud to say I inherited. Most of all Lord, thank you for sending me an Angel. Bless her life with good health, happiness and love. Your faithful servant, Brooke Albertson.

October 28, 2013

So there I was, looking into the sad eyes of a friend who was recounting the end of a relationship that had been going great. Funny...last week, this actually happened twice- (one couple 20 somethings, another 40 somethings). We've all been there, but then again, no story is alike and no tear falls the same way. What is alike is that it leaves every woman feeling that they are too much and not enough at the same time (borrowed that from a great book). Too needy, too emotional, too clingy, too high maintenance, too MUCH. Not casual enough, not carefree enough, not sexual enough, not into sports enough, not ENOUGH. My mind likes to have a lot of physical attributes- not pretty enough, not sexy enough, not skinny enough, laugh too loud at my own jokes. Whatever a woman's "too much's and not enough's" are they are a representation of all of our biggest fears being projected onto the loss of yet another guy. Ultimately, the big question always becomes..."What is wrong with me? Why am I not worthy of being loved?"
Which of course is horseshit.
And I'll tell you why.

I went out by myself about a month ago and had some drinks, meeting this guy and his female friend who were lots of fun. The guy was funny and quick witted- an actual match for the speed of my mind, but I wasn't at all attracted to him. We shared the usual stories of being divorced, no kids and what not. Ironically enough I got the female friends phone number, as she was a hoot too, a single chic, without kids who might be a fun wing man from time to time. The next week I get a text from the dude. Of course, I didn't know right away who it was and when he asked "Do you know who this is?" and I said "God" I laughed out loud at my own genius. He made a comment that he figured I would have asked his female friend for his number, which I didn't, and it was awkward, the end. Do you know that when discussing this with the chic, he is actually married with three kids? No joke. The moral to the story is this- there is not a damn thing wrong with anyone.

Men, women and children. We are all a bit off center for so many, many different reasons. When we try and bend and twist into what we think the ideal woman is, we just end up shooting ourselves in the proverbial vagina. As great as the vibe might be with a guy, as wonderful as things are going, and as awesome as the sex is- there is NO guarantee that it means squat. Enter the broken heart- the heart is bruised up from pride and an over active ego, but broken from losing the dreams of what could have been. The heart and mind are spastic bastards- yacking in our ears about it having to be our fault that another guy obviously rejected us for being such losers. Again- total horseshit. Really- the voices inside the head are mean spirited and crazy! So don't listen to that propaganda. Go ahead and think of cute baby names. Imagine your ideal wedding, honeymoon and the gorgeous house. What we must all do is stop LIVING for what we want the future to be and start making our lives actually happen for us today. Men come and go for stupid reasons. Afraid of commitment, mommy issues, daddy issues, too intimidated by a woman who really does have her shit together. Men will figure their own crap out when it's time. So stop beating yourself up for not finding "the one" in every great relationship. Life is a path of detours and potholes- enjoy the ride and make the most of the moment.

Dear Mother Mary- Men suck on a grand scheme when it comes to relationships, dating and love in general. If you could find it in your heart to kick them in the baby maker and straighten them out, we would be most happy and thankful.
Your grateful servant- Brooke-I-speak-for-all-amazing-women-who-have-put-up-with-this-horseshit-for-too-long-and-TOTALLY-not-bitter-at-all-Albertson.

September 22, 2013

So here I am, feeling a bit goofy blogging so soon after my last blog. But, there's something inside of me, a knowing that I feel I should share.

I've lived my life being restless. Restless to get out of high school and then college. Hurrying along the path of life. GET ME THERE. What does that mean? Get me to a place where I am comfortable breathing in my own skin. I know only one or two other people that have felt this similar unease. Wishing for peace and solitude. Finding that small piece of  heaven in our very own universe. From coast to coast I searched. Finding it in small pockets of time and emotion. Reaching out to hold onto it, but never getting it in my grip. There have been souls on my path, sign holders, of which way I should turn. I wasn't fluent in sign language. It's there. Even beyond my own fumbling ability, I can see it. But seeing and learning something isn't necessarily knowing it.

Living the life- the dream really, of success, love and happiness is not how you might imagine. A great love in a great city, the world at your feet: it's not there. Loving beyond reason with your entire being: it's not there. Giving more of yourself than you knew you had: it's not there. Taking every precaution, every simple act of faith, every step toward stability does not ensure that you'll get it right.

It's not out there. It's not in the car, the home, the job, the love of your better half. It's not in the amazing feeling of knowing you've been THERE; it's not in the stories of boy bands or celebrity sightings. I recently felt so sad because my dream life in Vegas was over and that my fourth trip to Paris is NOWHERE near to becoming a reality. That New York City will not see my presence any time soon and that 2002 was a long, long time ago. I've felt the stereotypical judgment of being who I am when I am me at this very moment. I am one person's dream and another person's nightmare. I am free. I am unrestricted in life. Money is my only limiter. My laugh can be shared with whom ever I want. My time can be spent completely selfishly because there is no one that relies on me besides my pets. I am capable of limitless things. I am alone.
I make great money and even though my credit was trashed in my divorce that doesn't stop me from moving forward.

I sleep as much as I want.
I exercise when I feel like it.
I drink when I want. Eat what I want.
I go out of town when I want.

You need to hear this.
Listen to me now.
Life is NOT this moment. They tell you it is. They tell you not to hold on to promises of the future because they are not guaranteed. Life is made up of memories and moments. There is truth in that but I beg of you to hear me.
Life begins when you know who YOU are. Not the daughter. Not the wife. Not the sister, cousin, girlfriend, best friend, enemy, co-worker, or mother. It's You who sits on the edge of tomorrow, with no regard of anything but your own volition to go forward- that is where life lives. Few have the chance to relish in that space. To dream and breath and belong in the entirety of themselves. What you find there, in that nanosecond, is that YOU are enough. No fancy clothes or designer anythings make a damn dent in that brief breath of forever. To glimpse the truth that nothing defines you but the walls of your own making. To realize that someone else's judgment of you is their own truth that has no basis of reality in your life. Your mirror is your mind. It is breakable, but it is also incredibly strong, durable and capable of reflecting what stands before it. Stand there in the strength of who you are.

YOU choose.
That feeling of happiness is yours...because it's you.
That anger, that frustration, is yours....because it's you.
Pain= you.
Laughter= you.
debt=you.
fear=you.
sickness=you.
LOVE=YOU.
choose wisely. It is in your power to be happy, healthy or miserable.
It is your right to live fully in love and fulfillment.
Feed yourself with the beauty that you find in life. In sunshine and rain. In the sweet tenderness of love for another. In an unrecognizable moment of pride. Yes... my friend, you are THAT amazing, and not just in that blink of an eye. It's a lifetime of awesome wrapped in the flicker of an instant. Trust me.

I love amazing cities. I love knowing that Paris, Las Vegas, Nashville, Boston and Orlando are like pieces of my soul. I love that music affects me to my core and that I hold a special spot in my heart for the less fortunate..people, animals, homes...you name it. I love that I can take care of a complete stranger with everything that I have and walk away in the morning knowing, ultimately, it is not in my hands. I know that for good, bad or ugly- I believe in who I am today. I am the best I have ever been and still the least of what I will one day be. And so are you. No one knocks on our door to give us a gold star for some good deed we might have done. There are no awards for best in class- because life isn't in a classroom. Feed the need to be better. Live the life that moves you forward towards fulfillment. Whatever YOUR fulfillment might be. That is where you find heaven.
I hope to see you there, now or in another life.
Always,
Brooke

September 18, 2013

I've been laughing a lot lately. Good belly laughs and it feels great. I think it really is the best medicine. For instance, today I took my 100 pound dog Beetle outside and as we were walking there was a big puddle from what looked to be the sewer backing up. I stopped and decided to just leap over it, sort of ballerina style. Very graceful, I'm sure you can imagine. I figured Beetle, big boned as she is, would just prance right through it. NO. She looked like she considered her options and then she "jumped" over the puddle. Ok. Ok. I will redefine the word jump in this instance...it was more of a waddle mid air. She cleared the puddle, partly. If she didn't have those pesky back legs she would have totally landed it! I was so astonished that I almost ran into the pine tree. I have never seen her be so proud of herself. Which is good because every time she attempts to get on the couch, I see a brief look of fear and despair as one back leg gets up and as if the sheer will of raising her nose as high as possible will bring the other back leg up she grunts and notches her nose up even higher...and dutifully, the back leg follows. She plops down exasperated, seemingly looking at me like "bring my food over here, I'm never moving again". But then sees the cat and goes flying off the couch ten seconds later. Silly dog. 

Let me take a poll...how drunk do you think someone would have to be, for them to be offered a helmet to wear? bwahahahaahaha...yes, I know a few people that meet this criteria fairly often. But seriously, you're having a great time- boozing and hanging with friends and someone says, hey, you need to wear this helmet because I think you've had too much to drink. I think I would be all shocked like..What! I'm not that drunk, and promptly test gravity by falling down. After I put the helmet on, I might then ask for knee and elbow pads- and it goes without saying, I would want a lid for my cup. In defense of the guy who inspired this, he was on a group beer bike ride..basically everyone pedals while drinking and the one guy who escorts the group steers you all around downtown. So, I suppose a helmet in this instance would be appropriate. Who in the hell wants to peddle while drinking? I mean, I prefer to do my shenanigans in places that let me express my inner dancing queen. Drinking on a bike? Does your butt not hurt as bad after sitting on it that long because you've been drinking? I would insist on an inappropriately loud horn to honk at strangers with because otherwise I would just feel like a douche bag. And what astonishes me are the dudes who came up with this whole idea.."hey dude...you know what would be cool...a big picnic table that holds a keg of beer in the middle."..."Dude! that would be awesome..we could put wheels on it and ride it around..how awesome would that be?!" "freakin awesome dude. pass that bud you're hogging". I might know a few guys who were the creators of this whole hot mess. 

Dear Baby Jesus,

If you can walk on water, and turn that water into wine, would you make a group paddle boat so people could paddle around drinking? Just curious.

Your faithful servant,

Brooke-not-without-my-helmet-Albertson