I choose life.

Every now and again there is a point in my life where I really truly have to choose.
I have the option to wake in the morning or not. I can get up, or not.
I can paste a smile on at work and encourage other people’s positivity, or I can just get through it.
I can keep up my sports and hobbies, or call off sick.
When I’m out and about I can meet new people and try to be interested in them, and their lives, or I can duck my head and hope to avoid superficial banter.
It seems easier to plead grief. To mutter that life is really hard right now, and that I have nothing to give.
  The truth of it is that when you feel like your world is empty because you are dealing with loss; whether it is a break up, health issues, having to move, the death of loved ones, or watching someone slip away in old age. You HAVE to keep fighting.
Otherwise you miss the point where things start to get better. One day someone or something lovely happens but you miss it because you are under your duvet smelling like three day old pizza.

 Before a family member’s funeral a long time ago, mum caught us kids playing cards and giggling in that over-stimulated tired way kids do when they are beyond it. We must have looked shamefaced at being caught in a moment of happiness at such a sad time. She sat down and quickly reassured us that we were allowed to be happy. “it’s really hard at the moment, but if you feel happy, or good things happen, you are allowed to enjoy it – you need it even more at the moment.” She joined us in our playful little group, our bubble excluding all the other crap outside the door. It was an awesome lesson in the fact that life is never 100% sad or 100% happy. We have little pockets of both in times of great extreme, the trick is to find them and use them.

  So things have been really horrible recently for me. (Take each of the examples from the above and every. Single. Fucking. One has happened in the last month). But I’m still here. And I‘ve realised, that the horrible things may not stop. And I either need to give up completely or try to enjoy the life I have. Because bad stuff isn’t going away, but the good stuff might.
People eventually stop reaching out if you aren’t there, and I need them. People have been AMAZING. I’ve been out for dinner, had people around, gotten drunk, stayed sober, sat quietly, talked for hours, sobbed uncontrollably and sworn endlessly.
My sports buddies and work colleagues have respected that those are my “safe” places and I don’t want to talk or think about things there and we are all doing an awesome job of pretending I’m hunky dory when I’m there. I’m so blessed in so many ways.
The least I can do is give everyone the respect they deserve and let them help me the ways they want to.
 So thanks to those twitter buddies who send me messages of support and respect that I’m not ready for drinks yet.
Thanks to those of you who have messaged to check that I’m ok, since there has been such a gap between posts.

 And here’s to anyone who is choosing to live. Really live – get your smile out and kick ass.

International women's day 2012

In honour of international women’s day 2012, I have decided to write about what it is to be a woman in New Zealand, and more specifically, this woman in New Zealand.

My Voice.
New Zealand women are allowed to vote. The 1893 women’s suffrage petition resulted in the Electoral Act of 1893 which gave New Zealand (and Cook Island) women the right to vote. This is in comparison to:
1902 Australia
1906 Finland
1913 Norway
1915 Denmark (which included Iceland at the time)
1917 Canada, Lithuania, and Latvia
1918 UK,Hungarian democratic republic, Moldova, and Ireland
1919 Armenia, the Netherlands, the Ukrainian SSR, Southern Rhodesia, and Luxembourg
1920 USA and Albania.

Side note: women did not win the right to run for the New Zealand elections until 1919, 16 years later.

Being allowed to vote may not seem like a unique or pivotal thing in my life, but it really is.
For two reasons: One, that I take my right to vote very seriously and enjoy participating in discussion around what is happening in NZ politics.
Secondly, I am really proud of what New Zealand women and Kate Sheppard managed to achieve by obtaining the vote for women. It is a sign of good things in this country, tangible proof that this tiny country can start a wave of hope all around the world and be a trend setter.


Education.

I completed high school with a bursary qualification, and I went on to complete a degree.
Kate Edger was the first woman in NZ to earn a university degree in 1877.
In the proportion of adults with bachelor’s degrees or higher, New Zealand ranked fifth equal (with Denmark and Canada) out of 30 OECD countries, with a rate of 25 percent. This was above the OECD median of 20 percent. Countries that had higher proportions of adults with tertiary qualifications at this level included Norway (32 percent, the highest rate) and the United States (31 percent). Australia (24 percent), the United Kingdom (23 percent) and Ireland (21 percent) had lower proportions than New Zealand.
Among 25–34 year olds, New Zealand ranked fourth with 33 percent having tertiary qualifications at bachelor’s degree level or higher. This was above the United States and Australia (31 percent), Ireland (30 percent) and Canada and the United Kingdom (both 29 percent).
New Zealand is among the 25 OECD countries in which females aged 25–34 years are more likely than males of that age to have tertiary qualifications at bachelor’s degree level or higher.


Working.

I work a 40 hour week as a registered nurse, a secure role with a heavy physical work load and high expectations of behaviour and professional growth. This workforce is an unusual one with women making up only 95.5% of registered nurses (Ref Kai Taiake nursing journal).
I’m really lucky because although nurses have the second highest rates of workplace injuries, New Zealand has a system called ACC which means that if I get hurt working to help other people the government (theoretically) has my back, supplying health care and rehab, and covering part of my lost wages. Unfortunately as I have a new diagnosis of Arthritis, most of any future claims I may have to make are probably going to be refused on the grounds that I have a “pre-existing condition”. This is a load of ass in a lot of cases, but urgh, I have to pick my fights. It is a fallible system, but it is significantly better than life without that particular ambulance at the bottom of the cliff.
In my career I have little interest in a management role, as my specialised clinical role provides a wonderful sense of satisfaction which I would lose if stuck behind a desk.
In nursing management roles = 4.1% of male nurses
In nursing management roles = 3.6% of female nurses
The New Zealand Nursing Workforce; A profile of Nurse Practitioners, Registered Nurses, Nurse Assistants and Enrolled Nurses 2010
Nursing council of NZ
The downside is that at the age of 30 I have hit the glass ceiling financially in the field of my choice. It is intensely frustrating knowing that I have so much knowledge, and love to improve and learn, and there is really not too far to go as far as financial remuneration.

There was a promise made by the New Zealand government internationally of 50% gender parity in government-appointed bodies by 2010, which has not been met and has now slipped to an 8.5% gap.
At this point as far as I’m concerned THIS is where I want to see improvement within employment for NZ women, because the government CAN make these promises and demands. The private sector cant and probably won’t make the same promises of gender parity, (and we could debate the good and bad of that til the cows come home) but the government can.
I would love to see our government showing employment equity and providing their workplaces as a great example of what we can do with strong numbers of women in, and leading the workplace.


Family.

I’m unmarried, and am lucky enough to have a family that wouldn’t care if I never married (whatever the reason). This hasn’t really been a problem here, however if my partner needed decisions made on his behalf due to illness or injury, his absent family members would warrant more response than I would within the legal and medical systems.
As defacto partners who have lived together for more than two years, here in NZ if we separate we are legally able to separate assets in the same way we would have to if we were married.
Given the wage difference of around 10.5% between men and women in New Zealand (NZ stats 2011) this agreement does favor the female in a heterosexual relationship without children, (obviously only if there is an income difference in the male partner’s favor). I’m pretty sure that most people in my situation walk away with what they came into the relationship with; NZ is not a particularly litigious country.


Kids.

Due to life opportunities, travel, work and reliable contraceptives easily obtained (since I have a car and only work 5 days a week) I have not yet have children, this is not unusual since the The median age (half are younger and half older than this age) of New Zealand women giving birth is now 30 years, compared with 26 years in the early 1960s.
In the March 2011 year, women aged 30–34 years had the highest fertility rate (125 births per 1,000 women aged 30–34 years), followed by those aged 25–29 years (108 per 1,000) and 20–24 years (76 per 1,000).


Social life.

NZ is still light years behind where we should be when it comes down to how women are treated in the community and viewed in the media. If I wear shorts or a skirt above the knee I WILL have someone honk, shout, or make a comment. Women in positions of power are treated like crap by the media, and their views are secondary to a briefing on what they are wearing and eating at the start of every interview.
Women who are single at my age are questioned on their relationship status at every social gathering, and those of us in relationships will be asked about kids. It doesn’t matter how rude either of those questions are. It is like there is a little vomit that has to happen at the beginning of any social conversation.
Women are judged on how they dress and how much they have drunk and this spills over into the legal system. Cases of rape have never even made it to court, because a woman was too scared to report/persuaded to drop charges due to a state of inebriation at the time of assault. Cases have been lost because of the victim’s traceable history of ‘promiscuity’ through online dating.
This is BULLSHIT, and needs to change. Slut-shaming is not ok, and I think the NZ feminists stepping up and questioning how women are portrayed in the media are awesome.


My health.

Health care in NZ in a lot of ways is very good, with one major flaw when it comes to women’s health – Abortion.
Abortion is governed by the NZ crimes act. No other medical procedure is treated this way.
If I need an abortion here in New Zealand I would have to see a doctor, lie and claim that the pregnancy and subsequent child would cause mental health issues. I would then be referred to a second doctor for a second tick to say that I would be batshit crazy if forced to proceed with the pregnancy. I’m super lucky because my GP is already an obgyn, but if they weren’t, I would have to ensure the second doctor was either/or a gynecologist or obstetrician. (Can anyone say rising costs?)
More than 98% of all abortions in NZ are given on the grounds of mental health… these statistics shouldn’t be so skewed by reports led with lies.
I would then need to make an appointment in order to actually have the required procedure.
Although abortion is legal here in NZ, these clunky laws with all the requirements that overlook an adult’s right to make choices about their own body undermine my legal status as an independent adult.
THIS is room for change here in NZ, and something I am willing to put my voice and face behind in our future in order to keep moving forward in women’s rights.
If you would like to see abortion decriminalized, you can join ALRANZ too.


So there ya go,
Just another kiwi woman, not on the top, not on the bottom, just here.

Happy international women’s day.

But that’s not romantic to me…

It is Valentine’s day today.
Every year I explain to people around me that we don’t “do” Valentines Day. By that I mean there aren’t flowers or gifts in our household. I object to being told when I should be nice to the special people in my life. I also MASSIVLY resent the constant messages of “What Women Want” from the media around this time of the year.
For me, what would make my day special is for the man in my life to attend my sports training and cheer me on, meet my team mates, and get to know a little more about who I am, and what I am capable of.
For him, the morning is a lovely time full of promise and hope (I’m more of the try-to-sleep-through-it brigade) so me getting up super early to cook breakfast and take that special time to be together without a big rush will make his day really nice. Neither of these things are in any of the numerous advertisements for how to “really treat your partner” on Valentine’s day, and yet, there it is… our perfect day.
So for all that I mock it… perhaps Valentine ’s Day is a really good time to set this stuff up with a new partner, or reinforce what makes you happy with a loved one. Because not everyone shows love in the same way, and not everyone accepts love in the same way. This is pretty damn cool, and it makes total sense given how unique each person and their life experience is.

I’m a super lucky lady, the man in my life is a really good guy when it comes to little gifts, and flowers. Unfortunately when I met him, flowers still stank of obligation and emotional bribery. Because of a history of a stalker and a boyfriend who would only buy flowers to give himself more time to wiggle out of trouble, they meant nothing more to me than someone trying to control me. I needed to gently tell him that I knew what message he was trying to send, but until I got a little more comfortable with him, and felt safer, flowers didn’t always send that message.
He knew he loved me, and wanted to tell me that.
But his message did not resonate with how I identified “love”
So message sent needs to equal message received.
It’s not romantic, but it does mean a lot more genuine happiness. And that sure doesn’t come in a box with a bow.
For me it comes with the smell of chlorine and a victory hug after training.

So how’s about we fuck up the sales records and tell the people we love, that we love them how THEY want to hear it.
I can’t wait to hear how it goes.

How to be an organised woman...

I've got a tendancy to write blog posts in a word doc, and save it to complete later, or forget completely.
I found the following post (written in September 2011 - the month of the antidepressants!) in such a file, and it made me laugh. Hopefully it makes you laugh too.

I got a bunch of books out of the library this week.
All sorts of self-help books. Women in business, Business women. How to not just be a token woman in business. Dealing with business as a women. Taking care of woman business
You get the idea…

Basically I am interested in learning more effective techniques for the day-to-day and to improve my future career.
One of the books I got was about being more organised. The book was pink, so I knew it was actually a “How to be an organised lady” subtext.
I started with it because one of the issues I had was a distinct lack of time to do what I wanted to do as opposed to the stuff I felt like I should do. The book was a horrible disappointment and almost lead to my first panic attack since I started on anti-depressants.
Each chapter had patronising little quotes about how great women are and how useless men are, followed by things that you could do that would streamline your life.
Such as labelling everything that goes into the freezer, cooking multiple meals at a time. Scrubbing the floor while enjoying your favourite TV programme. Having all your herbs and spices in one place, with clearly defined with expiry dates.
Asking your partner to chip in.

WTF???
My partner was already valiantly running the household while I was never there.
I didn’t even know that our spices COULD expire! This was clearly designed for people who had NOTHING to do but couldn’t figure out why nothing was getting done.
It was essentially a chores list for people who have nothing better to do that store pillow cases between books to avoid ironing.
WHO THE FUCK IRONS ANYTHING LET ALONG PILLOW CASES!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (That many exclamation marks is a sure sign that my mental illness was winning.)

I was almost homicidal by the second page, but at least I got up early today, too angry to lie in bed enjoying the fact I don’t have to work.

So here is MY advice to streamline your life.
Get your partner to write down their responsibilities, while you do the same on a different page.
Now each go through and tick what you ACTUALLY DO.
Redistribute chores so that ones that are being missed are swapped or negotiated, or split.
If this doesn’t work, or you can’t negotiate an even workload, find a fresh partner, or enjoy the peace of a single life.

If you are single, hire a cleaner and give them the list of most hated jobs and some money – life is too short to iron.

If the garden needs re-digging start a rumour that there is treasure in your garden then throw a party for the local 11 year olds. No one has more energy than a kid on a treasure hunt.

Tell people who sell label machines, tuppaware, and other assorted kitchen crap to fuck off. If you need to store that much food, you are buying too much or eating too little.

People who like to organise things do it because they like it. Don’t feel guilted into having a matchy-match kitchen or office space if the thought of it doesn’t give you a total lady boner. As virtuous as it looks, no one should do it for any reason other than personal satisfaction.

Bakerys are there for a reason. Cupcakes from the supermarket can be put in kitsch cupcake wrappers and sent to school with the kids with a clean conscience.

Schedule the fun stuff, your guilty conscience will ensure the jobs get done, and you will end the day a better person for it.

The most awesome people I know have houses that are a mess, because they are busy doing awesome things in it. Visit other people’s houses or get some cool friends who love your mess as much as they love you.

Staple multiple “magic mops” to your and your partner’s shirts and make love on the kitchen floor. If you are doing it right a vigorous 30 minute cleaning session should leave both you and the tiles glowing.

If your job has you out of town more than the three days a week they promised at the interview, quit and take three weeks off to sleep, eat and tell everyone you love them and you are sorry.

(And I did. And it was AWESOME!) x SN.

Alternative health from Alternative medicine.

I once had a patient that we needed to an insert a portacath into. A portacath is a catheter inserted into the large veins of the patient, to lower the risks of “thrombophlebitis” or inflammation of the veins during chemotherapy. Chemo-therapy is some nasty stuff, and the larger veins have thicker walls and a higher volume of blood, helping to dilute and protect against localised issues with chemo. This patient had secondary cancers throughout most of her systems, and was not having the port inserted for chemo use. She was having it inserted for ease of use when receiving her Vitamin C therapy.

I’m not going to explain how vit c therapy theoretically works, please go ahead and google it, but I will point out that even if you skim the surface of research, there are three prospectively randomized, placebo-controlled studies involving 367 patients documenting no consistent benefit from vitamin C among cancer patients with advanced disease.
On top of the lack of proven efficacy, high doses of vitamin C can have adverse effects. High oral doses can cause diarrhoea. High intravenous dosage has been reported to cause kidney failure due to clogging of the kidney tubules by oxalate crystals.

As you can tell from my lack of interest in the “facts” behind the therapy, and my disclosure of negative findings on it, this is a biased blog post! I am not a big fan of “alternative medicine”. For this reason…

"Alternative Medicine", I continue
"Has either not been proved to work,
Or been proved not to work.
Do you know what they call "alternative medicine"
That's been proved to work?
Medicine."
- Tim Minchen, “Storm”

But this post isn’t about debunking questionable therapy; it is about how our team responded to this. It probably isn’t what you would expect.

When I questioned the patient’s current state of condition and treatment, the surgeon informed the team why we were inserting the portacath, and the fact that the patient was receiving vit c in high dose transfusions from her GP.
There was a long pause, and then I asked the surgeon “what are your thoughts on vit c therapy for cancer?” The surgeon turned to the anaesthetist,
“What chance does this woman have of surviving these mets?” the anaesthetist glanced at the waiting nurses
“a snowballs chance in hell I’m afraid”. There was a heavy silence in the room. We joke about theatre staff being heartless “not people people” but the truth is, that everyone there cares deeply about the patient. The surgeon continued operating, and after a while he spoke.
“So the patient will not survive. There is nothing we can do. The patient obviously has a strong rapport with her GP. She believes that the vitamin C is improving her quality of life as well as her possible outcome, allowing her to live a fuller life for the time she has left… Who cares what MY thoughts are?”

I suddenly realised that for all that I worry that surgeons are outcome focused, there are a large number, like this one who respect that we are a small part of a bigger picture. We are an even smaller part for those patients whose cancer we cannot just cut out.

On one hand, it infuriates me that someone is making money out of this woman’s remaining months, for something which will have little, or no positive effect.
On the other hand, she believes that she feels better when she has it, and this in itself has an effect.

The problem is not in the patient, or the therapy.
It is in the fact that we allow the term “alternative medicine”, and yet it is not regulated in the same way as actual medicine.
Vitamin C is a dietary supplement, and until proven as such shouldn’t be marketed as cancer treatment.
If you would like to have your say on the way natural health products are regulated in NZ, now is your chance.

Public submissions are now being invited on the Natural Health Products Bill. The closing date for submissions is Friday, 24 February 2012.
This bill establishes a system for the regulation of low-risk natural health products in New Zealand.
The bill will require someone distributing “natural health products” to submit a product notification to the government. This notification must include health benefit claims made for the product and a declaration that the notifying person “holds evidence to support the health benefit claims.”
Unfortunately the term “evidence” is defined in the bill to include “substantial evidence” OR “evidence based on the traditional use of a substance or product.” Which opens a big ol’ can of worms in the way of anecdote, hearsay and myth being legally considered “evidence” of efficacy.

If and when this bill is passed, it can be a fantastic tool to allow the use of a wide range of proven therapies in conjunction with mainstream medicine to help people with their health, protecting the general public against the health and financial cost of unproven crud, pushed by those who should know better.
Because those who work in mainstream medicine know that patient outcomes are not just about survival, we understand the need for quality of life. We WANT people to have the best chance possible from wherever they receive it. But there is no reason that genuine proven therapy’s should be side-by-side on a shelf with unproven products all under the same title of “alternative medicine”.

Please, if you have an opinion, have your say.

Feminism 101 - Spoons as a concept…

Before we start, head over to Christine Miserandino’s piece from which the “spoon theory” has stemmed. It’s a brilliant piece, and the depth of understanding about what it is to have a disability that she managed to convey with her explanation is wonderful.



When I first started reading feminist blogs it wasn’t long before I started hearing about “spoons”
“I haven’t got the spoons”
“Urgh, I’m getting low on spoons”
“Anyone got the spoons to help me out with this jerk?”
And so-on.
I ended up asking a feminist friend to find out WTF people were talking about, because when you Google “spoon theory” you are more likely to read about the “silver spoon” sort of thing.
The overwhelming understanding in feminist circles appears to be that we only have limited resources to deal with our daily battles, whether they are personal, professional, or online. At times when there are heated debates on topics which may trigger us, those resources get depleted at a higher rate than usual.
Christine’s writing equated resources with spoons in relation to her Lupus, and the fact that those who live with Lupus have a constant struggle to maintain their lives while their condition deteriorates.
When people on the feminist blogs talk about “not having enough spoons” it may mean that they feel like they can’t deal with whatever it is that has been happening, do not have the energy to continue to debate, or just cannot find it in themselves to explain for what feels like the millionth time a concept to someone who may or may not actually want to learn.
Sometimes it is used among friends to ask for help. i.e. “I’m running out of spoons – can you come help deal with this troll?”
Sometimes to display distain at someone asking stupid questions, or repeating the same points. i.e. “I really don’t have the spoons to deal with you anymore.”

What is important to realise is that the Spoons concept was driven by someone with a long term debilitating illness. It is much loved by squillions of people who also struggle with limited spoons.
Go to twitter and use the hash tag #spoonies and you will find a reel of men and women all trying to cope with a myriad of disabilities daily and nightly. Their spoons are so much more valued than mine, just simply because I have more to start with, and do (usually) not have to truly economise with them.
It is for this reason that I don’t use the term “spoons”, because I feel like it isn’t really mine to use. I like the phrase, and I sure as hell think that it is relevant to everyone at some point in time, but it just feels a little like I’m undermining the original meaning now that I am in the fullness of health.

Tea-spoons is another phrasing that is less commonly used (as I have noticed), and the origions of this seem to be Florynce Kennedy. Check out the lovely Melissa McEwan over at Shakesville who uses the term regularly.

Just by nobody doing nothing the old bullshit mountain just grows and grows. Chocolate-covered, of course. We must take our little teaspoons and get to work. We can't wait for shovels."

I hope that this helps out people looking to find out what the heck is being talked about on the blogs when someone refers to “spoons”. Let's grab our tea-spoons and start shoveling hey?

Below I have included what spoons mean to other people, because there seems to be a slightly wider range than just what I thought.

“spoons” is just such a nice, succinct way of expressing “a finite, slowly-renewable resource I have to consciously think about allocating.”


I think it isn’t just good for understanding Lupus, but anyone dealing with any disability or illness.


Maya of “capitalism bad”
“Something that you might like to be aware of is that the person who wrote it, and others who have similar health issues (she has Lupus) are very critical of the way that it has been used much more broadly than originally intended...
There is an argument that the wide adoption of the metaphor for the lives of people under very different circumstances is a form of appropriation."


@Rageaholic_
I always thought it referred to having the patience to spoon-feed information in small and easily digestible chunks. But I think that was an assumption or I made it up-recently read the spoon-theory some1 linked to on THM & it's very different.
I should've made it "patience, time & ability" I realise it's more than just about getting frustrated with newbies sometimes.


1. We, the community of people with invisible chronic illnesses, need a terminology that describes just our experiences to use amongst each other and with the outside world.
2. That terminology, so far, is mostly The Spoon Theory.
3. The spoon theory has been great in getting the message across that our pain and fatigue and other symptoms make our daily lives very different from people who don't have invisible chronic illnesses.
4. People have taken the terminology and run with it.
5. This is great when it's being used to describe the experiences of people with invisible chronic illnesses.
6. This is problematic when it gets used for other things.
7. PLEASE STOP USING THE SPOON THEORY TO TALK ABOUT THINGS THAT AREN'T ABOUT BEING CHRONICALLY ILL.
8. Thank you.


@GraveyDice
I think of #spoons as an inverse of harmful culture, which is created by millions of small actions, each on their own trivial but collectively add up to something monstrous. #Spoons is the neutralizing of harmful culture in the same way - in tiny steps.
And the great benefit of #spoons is that the big problem is too big to comprehend fully, or to try to address. Whereas #spoons allows us to deal with small actions, one isn't overwhelmed by the enormity of the problem.


@TSpankhead
there's this, though it doesn't add anything. :)

@MeganWegan
Can't find the post, but short answer: pick the fights that are worth winning, and self-care is really important. No point trying to be any kind of activist if you're too tired for the fight.


Deborah.
There's another spoon concept, of using a teaspoon to empty an ocean, of misogyny usually. A huge and impossible task for one person, but little bit by little bit, as feminists from all over the world work on a issue, each wielding a teaspoon, the ocean is lowered.

NB: I have found Christine Miserandino very approachable and there may well be a response from her updated to this page in the next few days... fingers and toes crossed :)

I hope this makes you laugh...

This is what happens when I get over excited about an idea.
The words get jumbled in the frenzy of awesome.

enjoy the laugh...