Observations of a Homesick Expat or Things I Wish I’d Known Before Moving to Another Country

FullSizeRender-21I moved overseas for love.  My boyfriend was born in the far northern reaches of Sweden, as far as nearly The Arctic Circle and frequent host to the Aurora Borealis.  When I approached the idea of moving there, it felt like such an adventure-the adventure of a lifetime.  I was moving to one of the world’s most progressive, innovative, and environmentally aware countries on the planet.

I’ve always embraced new endeavors with intense determination and childlike excitement.  It’s just who I am.  Moving to another country has tested the limits of these qualities and while I’m still standing, still determined, it has been no walk in the park.  It tests who you are at the very core.  I’ve read endless articles on life as an expat, have bonded for life with expats and natives alike, and found there is a common path one winds down in the process of integration.

There Truly is a Honeymoon Period

Every possible thing about your new country is perfect.  It’s like a scene from Travel Channel and you’re the host.
You’re enthusiastic about learning the language, trying the foods, embracing the customs.

You Wonder Why They Can’t Just Do Things Like They Do Back Home??

As weeks turn into months and you try to settle in to your new life, frustration ensues.  You have to take a number and get in line for everything, even at the doctor’s office.  The only number you take at home is in line at the deli at Publix.  You don’t understand why any decision in Sweden requires a group meeting of intense discussion and counter discussion even if it’s something as simple as what to eat.

Longing for Familiar Makes You Eat and Do the Strangest Things

You find yourself standing in line and paying the equivalent of $20 for a measly pancake breakfast at one of the only breakfast places in town.  Said pancakes are delicious and worth every penny as they temporarily fill the void in longing for home. The ethnic section in the grocery store now applies to you.  You consider buying that jar of marshmallow creme (that you haven’t eaten since you were seven) in the American section.

You Become an Ambassador for Your Country

You now (reluctantly) represent your country everywhere you go.  You are known as “the American” and with it comes all the clichés and assumptions.  You hope to leave a positive image of Americans and disprove the cliché that we are all loud, lazy, know it alls.

No One Else Cares That it’s Thanksgiving

That special, warm feeling you get when you wake up on Thanksgiving in anticipation of your mom’s delicious stuffing and the annual Macy’s Day Parade?  You’re the only one that feels it.  It’s just another Thursday in Sweden.

You Become a Smuggler

You start filling your suitcase with your favorite shampoo, skin care line, even canned pumpkin and turkey bags while home because it either costs twice as much in Sweden or you think you won’t find it there at all.  Your closet starts to look like a mini super market.

You eventually Find the Replacements

Your first year you talk your mother into shipping two cans of Ocean Spray cranberry sauce bearing in mind that it has now cost her at least ten times the amount in shipping.  Must have the cranberry sauce!  Your second year you opt for lingonberry jam and are pleasantly surprised that it is actually as good if not better.

You Begin to Feel at Home

You start understanding and speaking the language more and more.  You find your tribe of people and they become your parallel family.  You begin to add Swedish traditions and customs into your own life.

You Wonder Why Can’t They Do Things That Way Back Home???

After about a year you start criticizing your own country.  You find chaos when waiting in line and wonder why they don’t have a number system.  You notice everyone is in a hurry, stressed and all you want to do is fika.  You are the one who now initiates intense group discussions before making any decision.

You Smuggle the Other Way

You start bringing home coffee, bread, cookies, and other Swedish staples.  Family and friends  demand said items on every future return.

You Learn to Embrace the Best of Both Worlds

You grow with leaps and bounds, often unknowingly and reluctantly.  You learn that people are the same wherever you go.  You learn to embrace new traditions, foods, ways of thinking and add them to who you are.  You crave cured salmon, sandwich cake, and long Sunday drives in the beautiful Swedish country side.  Your expat friends anticipate your annual Thanksgiving dinners.

You still long for home every day in your heart

You go home to remember who you are, where you come from.  You long for a taco salad at Taco Shack, Trader Joe’s peanut butter pretzels, and Sunday night Walking Dead marathons with your sisters.  While you love your adopted country and all that living there has taught you, you know deep down in your heart there’s no place like home.

 

Dealing with the Loss of a Tiny Patient

Dealing With the Loss of a Tiny Patient

AWHONN Connections

By Lori Boggan

I have worked with babies as a neonatal nurse for nearly twelve years.  In that time I have seen countless well babies, premature babies, babies with heart defects or bowel defects, and babies born with Down syndrome or syndromes incompatible with life.  I have seen babies die.  It happens and is the sad, unfortunate part of the job. It’s sad for the parents and family that longed for this little person and lost.  It’s sad for the medical team that worked so hard to give the baby a fighting chance and lost.  So how does one overcome a particularly poignant loss?

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Yoga Retreat in Sweden, June 2016

In need of relaxation and renewal and have the urge to travel? Join Lori (Neonurse) and Jessica along the west coast of Sweden for a transformative four day, three night yoga retreat at the luxurious Arken Hotel & Art Garden Spa along Gothenburg’s stunning archipelago. Experience Swedish food, Swedish spa culture, and total avslappning (Swedish for relaxation). Explore the Ashtanga Primary Series with authorized teacher, Jessica, and learn to unwind and destress with a daily restorative class led by Lori. No previous yoga experience necessary.

Click the following link for details and to register…

Om Yoga & Wellness

A Baby Gone Too Soon: A Nurse’s Goodbye in Honor of all Babies Gone Too Soon

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I’ve worked in the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit) for some years now-long enough to witness the struggle a sick or premature baby’s parents face in the roller coaster ride of neonatal intensive care.  It can look something like shock, followed by hope, denial , hope, sadness, hope, anger, hope, hope, and more hope.  It’s hard to know what to say sometimes.  Honestly, this is the hardest part of the job most days.

How do nurses cope when faced with the loss of a tiny patient?  I can only speak for myself.  I’ve lost babies, sometimes without any indication.  It’s tough.  We have to keep going and care for the next patient, support the next family.  It gets heavy sometimes.  I find a combination of time, talking about the loss, and writing helps.

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.  The following is my tribute to a premature baby I cared for in the neonatal intensive care unit.  It is my hope that it will give his parents and (and all NICU parents) some comfort in knowing that the loss of their baby is felt by many.  It is hard to work in the NICU and not grieve the loss of a baby on some level.

Dearest baby boy,

It’s been 6 months since you left us suddenly, brave little bright-eyed boy.  You were close to being discharged home to your family. Things were looking up as you grew stronger with each passing day.  It was a shock to all of us in the NICU that cared for you when you lost your courageous fight as a baby born too soon.

You endured every micro premie parents’ worst nightmare with complications from ventilator associated lung disease, patent ductus arteriosus, and bowel obstruction surgery.  Through it all you  managed to win hearts over with your sweet little face.

Your parents (like all NICU parents) stood watch by your side day in and day out.  They gave you and themselves normalcy in the otherwise frightening and unfamiliar environment that is the intensive care unit.  They changed you, bathed you, dressed you, talked to you.  They loved you so much!!

You endured painful sticks, surgeries, and were dependent on oxygen your entire life.  You were stuck, prodded, and probed all in effort to sustain your little life. You fought an amazing fight.  You were stronger than most.

I was your nurse sporadically though I wish I had known you a little bit longer.  The thing is, while there is always something special about all the sweet babies I care for, I have to maintain a little distance. It’s called self preservation and it’s part of survival for those of us who care for babies like you.  You broke me though.  You got through and touched my heart.  Maybe it was the collage of pictures that hung over your bed.  Your mom, dad, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and puppy all watching over you day and night.

There were nights where you were restless and awake most of the night.  I would tease your parents in passing that they had to stay all night because you wanted to be held.  Karin and I would hold you, reposition you, rub your back gently to help you sleep.  Do you remember when one of your doctors, Karin, sang you to sleep?  You were loved by so many.

I was on vacation when Mary told me you passed.  It was shocking, unexpected.   Those of us that have worked long enough in the NICU see things that most people can’t imagine.  Babies die.  We learn to try to take it in stride.  Self preservation.

I’m not sure how you did it, but you stole a little piece of my heart in the time I was privileged to know you and care for you.   I will always have a little space for you there, sweet boy. You were a joy to know.  I will remember you in the photographs. I will remember you in our brief moments together. I will remember you through all the babies that follow in your footsteps.  I will remember you 💗

Remembering Edith

 

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It feels like ages since I last wrote. Have missed you all ❤ Between shock, loss, grief, more loss, jet lag, and trying to get back to some kind of a routine, I have slacked off a bit. At the same time, it also requires some outside inspiration to write. Today that inspiration is Edith.

When I visited The Florence Nightingale Museum in London last June, I had the pleasure of learning about Edith Cavell-yet another inspiring and amazing nurse that went above and beyond. She gave her life protecting her patients, allied soldiers in WWI.

Wow, she gave her life protecting her patients! It is said that “during WWI, she treated all soldiers regardless of nationality.” According to Edith, “each man is a father, husband or son” and that “the profession of nursing knows no frontiers.” Before she was executed, she managed to help over 200 soldiers escape an otherwise ill fate.

Thank you for your service, Edith. Thank you for putting others before yourself. Thank you for being so brave. It kind of makes me rethink complaining the next time I miss my dinner break at work because we were understaffed and overworked.

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Learning to Live With Loss

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I lost someone dear to me two weeks ago today, it was sudden and unexpected. The shock still has me a little paralyzed. The world just doesn’t feel as funny anymore. All the things that reminded me of her that brought laughter, a smile, bring sorrow. It’s sorrow in my loss of her. Sorry that I won’t hear her witty play on words, sorry I won’t hear her say “oh Lori” with her heavy British accent.

I took the first flight home on hearing of her passing. There was no question I had to be there. I had to be there for her son, be there for my sister, be there for her friends, be there for myself. I’ve lost classmates, friends that I still think of to this day. This loss hit closest to home. It is a wake up call, a realization of how delicate life is. She was an adopted mom, she always said my sister and I were the daughters she never had.

Her name was Sandra. She was born about 17 miles northwest of London near the end of World War II. She was the second of three kids, the only girl. She had an early knack for baking as a child that led to professional culinary training with The Royal Air Force (RAF). After her tour with the Air force, she headed to America where she would live the rest of her days.

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She took me under her wing in my early twenties. She employed me, my sister, and best friend during college. She owned a quaint little British tea room in Ormond Beach, Florida. She filled it with all the fresh baked delicacies, chocolates, and bone china any homesick British expat could hope for to fill the void of living far from home. I can still recall the smell of her fresh baked scones at the start of each working day. I would walk in to a cup of tea, one of the “reject” scones, and some silly banter waiting for me.

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She taught me to cook, drink proper tea as she called it, and be a strong, independent woman. She always pushed me to find my own way in life, despite what was expected of any young woman. She told me it was ok to never marry, never have kids. She was a welcomed stern voice in my life that pushed me harder than anyone. I wanted to quit nursing school halfway through. If it wasn’t for her, I might have.

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She lived fully, traveled far, was well read, full of humor, and above all, had a huge heart. She visited me twice when I lived in San Francisco and always joked that it was time I move back there so she could visit again. All my favorite British shows were at her recommendation. Every corner of the world I visited, I sent her photos.

I have spent the last two weeks talking with friends, family, and clients of Sandra. Every conversation began heavy with me sometimes bearing the news of her passing, but ended with a funny story or memory of her. Her love of animals, all things British, her son, family, friends, and adopted girls reached far. Anyone who came to know her grew to love her.

Since her passing, my sister and I have had several reminders that she will always be there, in our thoughts and hearts. When I open a bottle of Berringer, drink my favorite tea (I travel with it), bake tasty scones from Sandra’s recipe, hear the sounds of Andrea Bocelli or Sarah Brightman, take a plie in ballet class, or watch the new season of Downton Abbey, I will think of her. I guess this is the comfort we have in the loss of a loved one. They will live on forever in our memories, in our hearts. They will be our strength on the days we feel weak. They will continue to cheer us on in our triumphs. RIP dearest Sandra. Daughter, sister, mother, adopted mother, friend ❤

No, We Don’t Just Feed Babies all Day

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Years ago, when I started working in the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit) I was explaining to a group of non-medical people what I do. I explained that I was a neonatal nurse, that I work with babies. With that came the naive question, “what do you do then, just feed babies all day?” The answer is yes and most definitely no. While of course even the tiniest babies need nourishment, this is just a small part of an enormous job that involves a keen eye, constant reassessment, a soft touch, empathetic heart, and super critical thinking skills. We carry a very heavy responsibility. Many of us at one time or another in our career have gone home with insomnia wondering if we did everything we could for our patients. Did we miss any subtle signs of our patient decompensating? NICU nurses have to be experts at reading subtle signs of danger as our patients lack the ability to communicate when they hurt or feel sick. The following is what is expected of a neonatal nurse in a day’s work.

Part Expert Clinician

This skill takes years to hone. A typical day for a NICU nurse starts after report, also called change of shift. Each patient has different problems, needs, requirements. It requires anything from understanding the pathophysiology of a congenital heart defect to knowing that a premature baby that exhibits a large belly and feeding intolerance can be a sign of necrotizing enterocolitis, a life threatening infection. We are expected to interpret a baby’s blood work and know when to react, know if the baby is getting too much or not enough fluid, and give all medications correctly and on time. We have to know that giving certain medications too quickly can cause ototoxicity or hearing loss. We are expected to know that certain IV fluids should never be given together and never given through small veins. We have to trouble shoot IV sites, IV pumps, ventilator settings. We have to interpret a low grade or high grade temperature. We have to quickly (but safely) give blood product after blood product to keep our tiny patients alive. We have to respond quickly to a dropping blood pressure and stimulate a premature baby who has gone apneic. We are expected to be fully aware (even at 5 or 6 am) and prepared to administer CPR to an asphyxiated baby born after being stuck in the birth canal.

Part Mind Reader

This applies only to working in certain areas in the U.S. Depending on where in the country one works, there still exists a very clear hierarchy where nurses are expected to anticipate the needs of the doctors and in a timely manner. I have through the years reluctantly become a sort of mind reader. It is the nurse’s responsibility to know that Dr. So and So gives all his babies a suppository every 12 hours round the clock (premies become easily constipated).
I have worked with doctors that expected the nurse to know that they require a small towel (rolled in a precise manner) to place under the baby’s neck before intubation and who have all but written me up (instead of simply asking) because I had not charted the baby’s weight in the timely manner they required. This adds unneeded stress in an already stressful environment.

Part Therapist

Parents of NICU babies are grieving. They are grieving the normal delivery they had hoped for, the healthy baby they dreamed of, and the diagnosis they have been given instead. Though they are usually referred to a support group or therapist early on, it is the nurse that plays the role of therapist most days. They witness the most critical moments in a NICU parent’s life in real time as it happens. They are there the day the baby is born and admitted, the day the baby is diagnosed with a brain bleed or life threatening sepsis and even on the good days when baby starts eating by mouth or gets closer hopefully to going home. Through this roller coaster ride that is the NICU, the nurse is by both the parents’ and baby’s side watching, monitoring, assessing, intervening, and guiding. The parents rely on the information we give them and sometimes that information determines whether or not they have a restful night, so we learn (hopefully) to tread gently and carefully.

Always Protector

In the 8 to 12 hours that a NICU nurse has assumed responsibility of a NICU patient, it is that nurse’s responsibility to protect the baby. It’s called patient advocacy and it’s a little like a female lion protecting not only her own cubs, but all the cubs in the pride. It can be reminding a parent, family member, or coworker the most critical element of hand washing before any contact with the baby. It can be questioning a doctor’s order that may not be in the best interest of that particular patient. Whatever it is, if it is not in the best interest of the patient, it is the nurse’s job to speak up.

I recently heard one of my favorite doctors here in Sweden say something that will be forever engrained in my brain. Toward the end of a tiring night that required admission after admission of unstable patients, she said to me something along the lines of “it’s best to always prepare for the worst, that way there are no surprises.” This is a good summation of working in the NICU, always preparing for the worst while hoping for the best. At the end of a sometimes very long and emotionally trying day, we are expected to show up for the dinner parties with smiles on our faces. This takes the super human ability of separating work from non-work. Some days are easier than others and that is why it is so much more than just feeding babies. Feeding babies is actually a cherished moment for NICU nurses because this means that we have hopefully done our job and done it well.

Doula Mimi

Postpartum Doula, New Smyrna Beach, Florida

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Birth & Postpartum Doula Support, Gothenburg Sweden

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