Every Breath In-Between
My 19 year old Mama brought me into this world through an immensely traumatic birth experience that still brings her to tears today.
Fast forward years later and as a Mom myself, I would have to fight and claw my way through the healthcare system for four long years to get my son’s official diagnosis of Autism.
As an Office Manager within the Hospice and Palliative Care industry, I witnessed RNs, LPNs, CNAs, Social Workers, Chaplains, Volunteer Coordinators, and administrative staff trying their best to serve hundreds of dying patients from as young as twenty-something to ninety-something.
As an Office Manager within the Home Health industry, I would find myself working late into the evening sitting at my desk trying to get through the mess of red tape called “prior authorizations” for patients who needed care the next day.
Then roles reversed in 2020 and I found myself in need of the care I championed for so long. I fell down my staircase at home and it literally broke me into pieces. It took two surgeries to halfway repair the injuries. Only then to find out I had to go through another surgery to remove my thyroid. For three years I’ve had to navigate through an army of providers who never talk with each other. Providers who only know me in pieces.
The healthcare system and I have a long history together. A couple of those experiences drove me to an intense mental and physical burnout. So when I landed in a unique (and refreshingly amazing) healthcare role six months ago, I was excited to get back to the work that held so much meaning for me.
Last week I was asking myself how do I tie these very unique experiences together into my why of being back in it. I started thinking the variety of my experiences had me being too much and I needed to figure out how to shrink myself.
Yet my truth is that I’m fiercely here for the first cry to the last call and every breath in between. I'm here to show up fully to serve you, your parents, your grandparents, your siblings, your best friend from college, your kids, and even that pain in the ass neighbor of yours.
I don’t want another parent recovering 43 years later from a violent birth experience.
I don’t want another parent to feel invisible and alone while trying to get their child care.
I don’t want another caregiver thinking they are alone in doing everything for their loved one who’s dying.
I don’t want another injured person receiving delayed therapy because of insurance hoops.
I don’t want another person who has an accident to feel lost and that healing can never happen.
I’m here to take up space for all of us.
With the pure intention to help the humans navigating any shade of healthcare to be seen.
