COVID-19 is a Pothole

Imagine this: the world and time is a road and each country is a car on it.

There's a massive pothole on the road--I mean, the shatter-your-bones kind of massive but not an actual sinkhole yet, that you can still drive over it.

Some cars didn't know it was there, drove right over it and needed to stop and assess their car, maybe fix their alignment or even getting a new tire afterwards. They tell other cars about the pothole.

Some cars make plans to avoid it as much as possible, which may add several minutes to their commute and be otherwise inconvenient, but they make steps. Other countries say they have to save that bit of time or that it can't be that bad and take the same path. Of these cars, some will take the precaution of slowing down a bit, while others still careening toward it--certainly their car is tough enough to handle it.

The US A) had warning from other cars, B) decided to go down the same path for convenience, and C) hit that pothole fast and hard.

The pothole, though, isn't the only factor: if you have not kept good maintenance of your vehicle, the impact of the pothole will have a much greater effect. COVID-19 is a massive pothole, yes, but how much we suffer from it depends on how well we've maintained the systems of our country. COVID-19 has exacerbated and revealed the flaws in our undercarriage, the rust and degradation of a flawed healthcare system that fee-for-service and inflated prices has wrought upon us.

We're hitting this pothole hard, yes, and it has sidelined our car, but the extent of the damage isn't because of the pothole--we've got the car up on the lift and there's a lot more to see and fix, here, than we realized, even if the stereo and the security system were doing fine.

Some folks are insisting that the guy at the shop is just exaggerating, trying to fleece us, even while the engine sputters and the car always drifts to the right and the miles per gallon has gone down significantly and there's an odd ka-clunk every now and again. Continuing to ride in the car as it stands is dangerous--carbon monoxide is filtering into the passenger compartment, and some people will asphyxiate faster than others. Carbon monoxide poisoning hits depending on a few factors--is it worth letting the children die in the backseat? The cost of not fixing this problem is unquantifiable. We should not get back into the car until it is safe to do so. It is going to cost money, time, and effort to fix this--we will need to reallocate parts of our budget to get going again, just like we would in the household budget. There are reasonable ways to do this that do not take out from other car systems (that is to say, we can easily preserve social security, medicade, etc.). What good is a top-notch security system on a car that doesn't run safely?

We need to start by admitting there's something wrong with the car. We have to do better maintenance on our car. We need healthcare and infrastructure systems that have people at the heart of them. With healthcare primarily tied to jobs, then a wave of unemployment, AND exorbitant healthcare costs that have ballooned to ridiculous levels, we have a much clearer view of the engine than we did before.

We can do better. We must do better. The passengers are going to keep asphyxiating until we do and especially if we keep careening toward the same pothole again and again. COVID-19 did not cause all of these problems, rather it reveals the extent of the damage we have done to ourselves through negligence and poor prioritization.

Dreams and Aspirations

So, as I have been transitioning from one part of my life to a new one--namely leaving my position at Skyward to pursue nursing--I've had some folks say in their congratulations something to the effect of how proud they are of me for following my dreams.  

There's something about the phrase "following my dreams," that makes me weirdly uncomfortable.  In the moment, I'll appreciate the sentiment from the well-wisher, certainly, but it's still something that's weighed on my mind, why I have an aversion to the phrase and why I find it so unsettling.  

Here's what I've come up with so far:

• The phrase has been cheapened:  I have seen "follow your dreams" on enough bumper stickers and murals and inspirational pandering to be a bit sick of it.  I have heard folks refer to working toward their dream job and enough other similar places that it has lost meaning to me.
• Personal bias:  I had a dream car.  It was a yellow VW Bug.  Drove it for the last year of high school and all through my years at Knox and into ISU--unfortunately, I hit a patch of black ice one winter and tried to make friends with a semi truck, but it was a good little car to the end.  However, I distinctly remember my father saying something to the effect of "now you have nothing to look forward to!" when we bought it.  A joke, yes, but something still to ruminate on.  I have no other "dream car" lined up nor a push to get any other specific car in the future.
• "Dream car/job/house/etc." is too concrete for me (personal bias II):  I recognize through my own experience that life can turn a lot of sharp, sudden corners.  I had thought I was going to be a high school teacher--my health needs broke that timeline.  I will always teach, just not in the context I had thought.  What does that mean?  A dream is a checkbox.  A concrete, resolute thing.  I don't much like concrete things--Andy has no small amount of consternation trying to get me to a simple yes/no statement at times, for the ways that I will try to leave space for odd contingencies.  For example:  "What's your favorite color?"  "Depends on what I'm looking at."  "Do you like tacos?"  "Most of the time, yes."  "Would you like to go out for dinner tonight?"  "That will probably work."  "Can you give me a straight yes or no?"  "It's possible."  There's a lot of grey in the world; I like to acknowledge it where I can.  More on this in a moment.
• Not everyone has a checkbox dream:  There are some people who have always known what they want to do and be in their life.  Great for them--I'm excited for them.  There are others that feel like they are inadequate for not feeling the same.  I don't want to encourage that feeling of inadequacy, when everyone may have a different path for how they approach life, career, love, and all else.  

So, I prefer to say that I don't have dreams, that I have aspirations.  I know that the denotative level doesn't have a lot of difference, perhaps, but connotatively the way I see it a "Dream X" is a firm something whereas an aspiration is a direction, an ideal to aim for.  Dream X fits in a box.  Aspiration is allowed to grow and change with time and circumstances.  In Project Management terms, a dream is the client coming to you saying "I want X and it should perform like Y and look like Z," and an aspiration is "the problem we need to solve for is X; what ways can we solve it?" to find a new solution that works best for the most people in a new way that no one had created before.

I have an aspiration to help folks and in particular to show compassion to persons with ostomies and/or other traumatic life changes associated with medical trauma, including a level of advocacy.  The rough shape I have in mind for meeting this entails becoming a nurse.  But if tomorrow I'm hit by a bus and could no longer perform the role of nurse as a result, I would still find a way to meet the looseness of the aspiration.  The shape would change, but the ideals and the goal are perfectly intact.  I don't feel like a "dream" covers that space.  

I want my future to be liquid.  A liquid bends and curves and moves with the changes.  A solid crumbles with time or cannot fit quite so well around certain corners.  My trauma has taught me not to trust the path to be clear and free (while still trying to make safety nets for emergencies as possible), but at the same time, I usually am quite certain what at least the next step is.  This has been a pattern for me, not knowing the destination but having a relatively firm direction on the next step.  It allows for pit-stops as needed; it allows for a tangent as needed; it allows for drastic reshaping; it allows for a freer schedule to let serendipity happen or respond to problems as need arises.  

In other words, the work won't be over when I get my BSN.  The work won't be over if/when I get my WOC certification.  The work won't be over when I have a position as a nurse that allows me to utilize said certification.  Rather, I will hopefully be empowered to find that next step to better meet the needs of others, meeting a particular need in myself.  

Okay, I don't know the context of this at all, but
it made me smile.

BONUS SLOTH GIF

BTS: Nursing Prep

I mentioned in a previous blog post that this whole process of getting into the ISU nursing program had a number of steps.  Let's hit the highlights with a bulleted list!

• Applied in February of 2018
• Found out I was accepted into the accelerated program in August 2018
• I was missing four of the prerequisites that I would need before program start, May 2019 in theory meaning two courses per semester on top of full-time work
• Andy had just changed jobs--based on that and obligatory pace of the remaining prerequisites, it made sense to defer and I declined to take part in the program that year
• Resolved to reapply February 2019, but started remaining prerequisites through Heartland Community College, one class per semester until theoretical new start (since there was no guarantee to be accepted again nor option to defer)
• Reapplied in February 2019
• Bought a house
• Manager above me retired--applied for that position
• Accepted the manager position in August 2019
• Two weeks later, was offered a spot in the 2020 accelerated nursing program
• Paralysis of indecision--it was a really sucky week
• Put in my grateful acceptance into the program, having finally given myself permission to pursue what was right for me; mentally started preparing myself for the emotional changes ahead
• Continued to work through remaining missing prerequisite courses around work schedule
• Paid off all of our remaining student debt (yes, with full knowledge that we would be incurring student debt all over again)
• More math; lots of math and spreadsheets
• List of necessary health and other requirements steadily worked through, including booster shots, new vaccinations, forwarding of historical vaccination records, TB test, and CPR class
• Orientation meeting in January with additional information dump prior to program start
• Ordered my first set of scrubs with ISU patches
• Drug test and criminal background check--in the drug test, I was initially told I was "too hydrated," which I think has only been said to three people in the world ever (I normally aim for three liters of water a day...)
• COVID-19 changed my in-person class to an online class and my in-office job to a remote job
• Attempted to sign up for classes for that first summer semester, which involved eight emails and a couple of phone calls to sort out what the hell was going on
• Cried internally when paying for the first load of textbooks, for several reasons--my back, my wallet, and my excitement
• Made the news known at work

Being able to tell my coworkers and higher-ups sucked, definitely, but it was also very freeing.  I value transparency--at work, I preach it wherever relevant.  So to be preaching transparency while also holding back this huge part of my life and myself, I have been feeling inauthentic for months now, and especially as May 2020 steadily moved closer.  I couldn't really blog about it without breaking some serious social protocol or otherwise playing my hand sooner than I wanted to do, which means I have been denied one of my best processing tools in parts of this transition.  I have written out some pieces (though now largely irrelevant) or talked a few things through with a few trusted sources, but mostly I have been working to catch up on some of this processing now.

What's particularly tough about this, though, is that we've been preparing for a significant life change all of this time, for years now.  In my mind, I've been comparing it to pregnancy:  preparing the space, gathering all of the tools that we'll need, putting our financial affairs in the best order that they could be, finishing any projects that we could beforehand (or otherwise establishing priorities), going to a few extra doctor appointments to ensure that all parts of me that could be addressed were addressed, and emotionally trying to prepare for life to be different after a specific day arrives.  Just without a socially acceptable space or way to talk about it--society at large has patterns for how to properly be happy for someone that is expecting, but this doesn't translate necessarily well to folks embracing other changes in their lives.  I am changing a few parts of my identity, becoming more of who I am.  There's a lot yet to process with that.  

Here's how it starts:  leaving work on Wednesday, attending orientation on Friday, and then classes starting on Monday!  

And there will be many stories yet, my friends.

Words and Changing Definitions

So, I want to start today with Bugs Bunny.  Or more specifically, Bugs Bunny interacting with Elmer Fudd.  

I found a meme recently talking about Bugs referring to Elmer as "nimrod."  I remember watching the particular cartoon in question and not understanding that word at the time.  I understood that Bugs was some level of disrespectful toward Elmer, meaning that, surely, "nimrod" was foolish or some kind of idiot.  The meme explained that this term actually refers to a mighty biblical hunter, meaning that Bugs was actually saying something along the lines of "What are you looking for, hunter?" which is sarcastic, maybe, but not a slur.  Basically how Bugs first addresses him in the Wagner opera piece ("Kill the Wabbit") with "Oh mighty hunter of great fighting stock..." is exactly what he's said before, if more floridly.  

Just a couple examples, I'm pretty sure neither of these are using it to mean "great hunter."  And that continues for the half-dozen other cartoon and show clips I found using the word.  

But that doesn't mean that the word, capitalized or otherwise no longer has that meaning.  It just means that its context is all the more important.  Let's take the word "nonplussed."  

In short, there are two definitions there that mean the exact opposite thing.  The word represents both.  The context is incredibly important to understand the intention of the word.  As a different example, the word "quite" has some sarcastic undertones in the UK, as I understand it, meaning that calling someone "quite pretty" in the Midwest usually means "lovely" but "quite pretty" in the UK seems to be a backhanded way to say "not pretty," but, you know, politely.    

What we're getting into, here, is connotative vs denotative language.  A word starts with a particular meaning and over time it can develop additional or slightly different meanings.  Grammar works this way, too.  With enough usage, words get added into the dictionary and grammatical rules loosen in certain contexts.  Language evolves.  Language moves.  The part that is there, in the dictionary or following strict grammatical flow, that's denotative--anyone who is strict on the rules because "thems the rules."  The kind that is looking at additional implications or following the flow of how words are spoken by native speakers, that's more connotative.  I used to be hardcore denotative, until it was pointed out to me that sometimes those rules are used to reinforce stereotypes and systemic ideas on poverty, class, and race that were not worth clinging to so fervently.  In short, I bend to the context--it something needs formal English, it's going to get it; if something is informal for a Facebook post, maybe I don't need to rush in with corrections, provided it's still understandable.  

All of this is fascinating to think about, and I want to throw one more very specific example out there.  

Theory.  Denotatively, it means a proposed explanation for something.  Connotatively and colloquially, it's an idea about how something might have happened or come about, one or a couple persons lightheartedly making a simple conclusion or in a crime drama, seriously drawing conclusions based on a few pieces of evidence and active camera shots.  

But in science, it means something much different.  In a scientific context, it's jargon.  It is not as flippant as it is used outside of science.  The way we use the word "theory" colloquially is closer to "hypothesis."  A scientific theory is a collective of hypotheses that have been tested when possible or using abductive reasoning when it is not.  Theories can be refined over time, sure, but a theory has been vetted and is continually vetted by the scientific method.  A scientific theory is not "just a theory."  It is a scientific theory, but to make things easier we sometimes leave out that important qualifier, which I suspect is how some of this confusion happened in the first place.  In short, when we talk about theory in science--a scientific theory--it has a denotative gravitas that is sometimes forgotten in the connotative context.  And yet, it does not mean that the gravitas isn't there.  

Speaking of gravitas, let's talk gravity.  Laws are a step above scientific theory.  There are Laws of gravity, that describe how gravity behaves, but how gravity is there in the first place, it's a scientific theory.  It's a collection of vetted observations, tested hypotheses, and other evidence to explain how gravity works.  I have yet to hear anyone refer to gravity as "just a theory," but we also have flat-earthers in this day in age.  

And I'm sure some of you have already connected where some of this argument may have originated:  "It's just a theory" is casually thrown against the concept of evolution rather liberally.  All this particular argument boils down to is a patent misunderstanding of a piece of scientific jargon.  In my head, it's like reducing my diagnosis of Crohn's Disease to "just a tummyache:"  it oversimplifies the concept and ideas into absurdity.  Scientific theories aren't something to "believe" in--they can have good evidence that needs to be incorporated in to potentially shift parts of the theory, but it's not a matter of belief and unbelief.  Scientific theories are used to explain parts of the observable world--science deals with the "how" something works or came to be; philosophy and religion sort with the "why."   Different questions, different tools, different words and jargon.  Using the same word to mean two different connotations is bound to lead to additional confusion, but to assume that they're always the same is only going to increase confusion.  

In short, when I hear the "it's just a theory" argument, I see this in my head:

BONUS ROUND:  How do you tell the difference between an electrician and a chemist?  Get them to pronounce "unionize."