Nomadic Nurse Diaries

Dear Stimulant Stigma Survivors and Friends of Unfiltered Me,

Well, folks, it’s official—I’m extending my stay in the land of orange jumpsuits and bulletproof glass. I know, I know: who in their right mind would sign on for more of this? But hear me out: I’ve actually made friends here! Yes, me—the girl with social anxiety who half-expects people to throw tomatoes every time she says “hello.” Somehow, despite the nerves and overthinking, I’ve not only survived here but thrived. My correctional officers? They’ve met the full, unfiltered version of me now, the one that’s three parts caffeine, two parts sarcasm, and 100% sparkle-brained. And you know what? They didn’t run for the hills! They actually like me. Who knew?

Then there’s the other side of my story: “ADHD Medication in Adulthood: The Sequel.” I was well into my 30s when I finally accepted that, yep, I needed a little pharmaceutical backup. I’ve tried for years to wrangle this wild ADHD brain of mine without help, but it turns out that willing yourself to focus just isn’t enough sometimes (imagine that). I mean, I love being the creative, daydreamy, squirrel-chasing person I am, but living in the Bermuda Triangle of unfinished tasks? Not as charming. So, cue the entry of stimulants, and let me tell you—they’ve been a game-changer. I can actually focus all the way through a task!

But oh, the stigma. There’s always that nagging little voice in people’s heads saying, “Isn’t that for, you know, kids?” (No, Karen, it’s for anyone whose brain is mentally juggling 74 squirrels.) I used to feel like I had to justify it somehow, but now? I’m done with the shame. These meds help me show up as the best version of myself—the version who can actually remember where she put her stethoscope. If they’re good enough to keep me from spiraling into lost-thought limbo, I’m all in.

The biggest twist in this saga? I’m moving to a different unit! Yes, I’m saying goodbye to maximum security to escape the night shift, which means I’ll actually be seeing sunlight again. (I may hiss at it like a vampire at first, but it’s a small price to pay.) I’m thrilled for this change, even though I’ll miss my crew—the correctional officers who’ve become like family, with their dark humor, midnight pep talks, and endless stash of ZYN. It’s strange to say, but I’ll even miss a few of the inmates. Yes, I’ve actually built a rapport with some of them. When you’re the one who shows up for early morning wellness checks and listens to a handful of their quirks, a weird kind of understanding starts to form. I mean, no, I won’t miss all of them, but there are a few I’ll think of fondly, locked door and all.

This new gig will be in an urgent care/clinic setting, so it’ll be busier—definitely more my speed. I’ll be hopping from patient to patient, tackling everything from mystery rashes to the sniffles. It’ll also give me a break from the 3 a.m. existential dread of night shifts. And yes, I’ll need my ADHD meds now more than ever to keep up with the pace. But instead of feeling weird or apologetic about that, I’m embracing it. Because if a little orange bottle can keep me grounded, organized, and on top of my game, I’m all for it.

So here’s to new chapters, new friends, and unapologetically embracing whatever tools help us show up as ourselves—squirrels, snark, and all. Cheers to finding my groove in a place I never thought I’d fit, surrounded by people who somehow get me, right down to my quirks.

With love from your caffeinated, slightly-medicated, and happily-settled Nomadic Nurse