All Signs Point to Yes

Remember the Magic 8 Ball? 

You ask it a yes or no question, shake it and get a "prediction"?

My question for the last 4 years and 7 months has been, "Will I be authorized to work as a nurse and midwife in Norway?"

We , feel that the Magic 8 Ball is telling us:

On May 13th, an unexpected, but very welcome message appeared on SAKs homepage. They announced that they would now be evaluating educations from outside of the EU based on the ECTS (European Credit Transfer System) instead of simply counting classroom hours. This is what we have been arguing for years that they have been doing improperly, inaccurately, irresponsibly--the message that we argued in several appeals, with support from colleges and nursing professors, nursing organizations, lawyers and telling to the media and politicians left and right. 

It appears that SAK has finally listened and will be evaluating the educations of foreign nurses with the same measuring stick that the colleges and universities in Norway measure them. 

Here is a link to an NRK news report that came out that day:

NRK and SAK 13. May

You can throw it into Google translate to get the details, but translated below is a transcript of the report that aired on a regional news broadcast that night, with a brief appearance by yours truly. 

Now SAK is changing the rules for authorization of nurses educated outside of the EU.

“The changes are based on that we are now giving great weight and credit for the entire course of study and not just classroom time, and are also looking at the total learning objectives and learning goals, ” says Anne Herseth Barlo, the director of SAK.

Now SAK will evaluate the competence of its applicants in terms of total credit hours of nurses, like the nursing educational programs in Norway do.

“On behalf of the work that has been done on this case thus far, this is very good news, because this conforms with how this whole time we have internally evaluated applicants/students here at the College in Buskerud and Vestfold, and as far as I know, throughout the college and university system throughout all of Norway,” said Heidi Kapstad, dean of the College in Buskerud and Vestfold.

Now SAK promises to reverse the decision on hundreds of applicants who have been denied and look at their application again, for the applicants who request it.

In the last 5 years, Emily Stange, with a solid American midwife education, has waited for approval.

“I am very excited. It’s going to be very nerve-wracking in the next few days when I come to check the mail,” says me.

“From what we have evaluated, and I say this on behalf of myself. . . I have signed off on Emily’s evaluation, and have gone through all of the papers, and I can’t say anything other than Emily is approved in Norway,” said Heidi Kapstad of the College in Buskerud and Vestfold.

That last line in particular is super positive, but unfortunately my dear supporter Heidi Kapstad is not the one that gets to sign off on my authorization. A powerful and influential woman she may be, and having that statement on record is huge, but SAK still remains in power. I sent and received an answer from my case manager, stating my application would be finished early this week. . . 

We are feeling very, very optimistic, and now mostly anxious about just the midwife authorization--the nursing authorization is almost certainly approved.

It is Tuesday. The mailbox is still empty. 

Russ

It is May in Norway, which means that for the next three weeks the streets are overtaken by graduating high school students dressed in matching red overalls, sweatshirts and hats, handing out mini business cards to young children, driving the streets in red vans and buses, and partying and celebrating the fact that they have not yet started their final exams but will in all likelihood graduate. Welcome to Russetid in Norway.

“Russ” is one of the few Norwegian cultural phenomena that has perhaps been the most difficult for me to grasp and explain, and certainly not embrace (although, seeing that I am not 19 years old, it’s not exactly a cultural experience that I am allowed to participate in). It’s taken me 4 years of witnessing it and trying to wrap my head around it to finally be inspired enough to write about it.

Clever Russ. . . they changed the word "ferist" (cattle guard)
to "Fest" (party), and made the speed bumps
 into breasts and nipples.

Norwegian high school takes students through the age of 19, or through the 13^th grade, by American standards (college is then 3 years, in comparison). The graduating students are known, during the final weeks of school, as “Russ”. Beginning in early May, the Russ begin three weeks of celebrating and partying around the country, culminating on the 17^th of May. (The legal age of drinking in Norway is 18. Let’s just put that out there, in the background of all of this activity.) The 17^th of May is Norway’s national holiday, and is historically a day to celebrate the children of Norway—the future of Norway, and after the sweet, low-key parade of school children through the streets of towns throughout Norway, the streets are taken over by the partying Russ, parading through town in red vans and buses, in their final send-off before entering the world of adulthood.   

The Russ are immediately recognizable by their clothing: matching red overalls and sweatshirts, and special Russ caps. (There are also black and blue Russ, which has something to do with the type of high school they attended, like a vocational high school, but in Lillehammer most Russ are red). The overalls are personalized with their name and year emblazoned down a leg—our neighbor has FRIDA* written in rhinestones, for example, and the Norwegian flag. The pants get signed by friends, much like the American yearbook, and are generally worn with the bib down. The rules are that once you start wearing the Russ clothing, you don’t wear anything else, and you don’t wash it--our babysitter showed up yesterday in her “russebukser” (Russ pants). The Russ can earn “knots” for their hats by doing silly, stupid, irresponsible or illegal activities, which must be witnessed by at least two other Russ.

I have witnessed Russ on all fours in the aisles of the grocery stores, barking like dogs;

posing in the window of the local H&M for 10 minutes, assuming various model poses every few minutes; setting up a small band in the middle of a round-about; running naked across a local bridge (some Russ confused which bridge was which, and ran—illegally--across the interstate bridge instead of the old, lesser-used, one-lane bridge). Other activities that have been reported involve large amounts of alcohol, having unprotected sex, disruptive activities in the classroom, etc. . .

Martin would like you to know that "doing a backflip
is like getting a blowjob, you lean your head back and
enjoy it 100%". Thank you, Martin, for
sharing that piece of wisdom with the children of Lillehammer.
You are a fine representative of Norway's
Top Athletic High School. May your parents be proud.

Most of the traditions are decades old. For example, Russ always have on hand little business cards, which is a little reminiscent of the US’s senior photos and yearbooks, but only a little. . .  These cards have the Russ’s name, photo, school, phone number, and a little quote that ranges from the cute and funny to the downright lewd. School children collect these cards (please don’t ask me why), and run up to the groups of Russ on the street like they are rock stars. Some children I knew had collected hundreds of these cards. I was horrified and disgusted to read some of them. What I fail to understand is why it is socially acceptable to hand out pornographic cards to young children—we’re talking about 7, 8, 9 year old kids. Or why the Russ choose to give the kids the cards with the sexual quotes on them when they are fully aware that it is the young kids who collect them—why not make two sets of cards? Or if you only have lewd cards, don’t give them to the kids?

Bettina, Julie, Stine-Marie and Katrine's bus from last year,
complete with corporate sponsor stickers, like the driving
school and the farm/garden supply store. 

 And then there are the “Russebuss” and the “Russetreff” (buses and gatherings). The Russ get together at multi-day long festivals that are held throughout the country. These gatherings can range from 5,000-15,000 students at a time, and students can travel for a few days to get there (Norway is a big country). They are a fairly typical concert-type festival—concerts late into the night by well-known Norwegian bands**, stereo competitions between vans and buses, carnival rides, prizes for the best bus, cheap food and alcohol, alcohol, alcohol. Lillehammer is host to one of these Russetreff this coming weekend, and generally has about 10,000 students from around the country. They meet at the Birkebeiner ski stadium, the only location that can “comfortably” park several thousand vehicles. The students travel and sleep in vans and buses that they have bought specifically for these three weeks. The students organize themselves in groups, earn money (or get it “sponsored” or donated by parents, employers, or local businesses), buy the buses from last years’ Russ, spiff them up, and hope to resell them again a year later. The buses are usually painted red, but can also have fantastically painted designs and themes, with the names of the members of the bus written on the side. Mind you, these buses start appearing around town in the beginning of May, and disappear at the end of May. I never see a Russebuss driving around town in, say, the middle of September.

As one might expect, the students from the wealthier neighborhoods and cities in Norway tend to spend more on their Russebuss than the students from the hicks. An article in Aftenposten last year profiled a group of young men who had been planning their bus since they started high school, and spent upwards of 300,000 NOK (approx. $40,000). They bought a tour-sized bus, and equipped it with top of the line stereo equipment. They saw it as an excellent investment and experience in financial planning.

What kind of blows my mind, is that all of this activity happens during the school year, in the weeks leading up to their final exams. The teachers dread this time of year, as the students are often distracted, exhausted, hung over or sick, but have no control over when Russ takes place. It is completely student-run, independent of the schools or communities. Parents kind of shake their heads and say, “well, I did it, too, so. . . “ There are always reports of violence and rape at various Russetreff; a local tae-kwon-do studio in Lillehammer offered a free self-defense course to young Russ women. Efforts are made to get the Russ vaccinated against various communicable diseases, as students inevitably get sick from living in close quarters with poor hygiene and run-down immune systems. Early May in Lillehammer is not guaranteed "spring" weather--it has been known to snow. All in all—fun times for all!

Many will come to the defense of the Russ and say “they’re not all bad” “a few are ruining the experience for everyone else” “not everyone spends a gazillion kroner on their bus”, which I’m sure is absolutely true. Our neighbor girl said she is not part of a Russebuss, and said she will spend a few thousand kroner on the clothing and attending the Russetreff, but coming home at night instead of camping in a van. But as an outsider, the whole experience is not one that I have come to consider a charming Norwegian rite of passage. In all honesty, I hope that we are back in the United States by the time Greta and Henrik are 19. Renting a limo and a hotel room for prom night seems pretty innocent compared to this.

*Not her real name, as our neighbor is very sweet and in my mind a very responsible Russ.
** ha ha hahahahahhah ha. . .
  

The latest on the "jordmor sak"

Writing updates on my quest for authorization as a nurse and midwife here in Norway has become such a daunting, confusing and downright depressing task, that I have opted to avoid writing any blog updates at all, as I felt that I owed you all a professional update first and foremost.

The last 6 months have been fairly eventful, in terms of national media attention (not just for me) and some forward movement within the political system.

Last fall, more and more stories of Norwegian nursing students who were educated in Australia began to make their way into the media. These students (most of them finished with their degrees) received financing from the Norwegian government for their college educations--both in the form of scholarships (free money) and loans. Historically, Australian nursing educations have been approved by the Norwegian health professional authorization board (SAK), but suddenly, around the same time that my education was determined to be "unequal" to a Norwegian nursing education, these Australian-educated nurses were being told they too needed to repeat their entire bachelor's degree education in Norway in order to be authorized/licensed as a nurse.

The stories were crazy. . .

Two Norwegian students attended nursing school together in Australia, took almost exactly the same courses, with the exception of one course. One nurse moved back to Norway immediately upon graduation and, as they say, "timing is everything", was granted authorization. The second nurse worked for a few years, completed an additional year of study in nursing as a specialist, returned to Norway, and was told her education was unworthy and needed to repeat her entire education.

Another nurse, educated in Australia, returned to Norway and was given the same response: repeat your whole education. She, in turn, applied for licensure in Sweden. Sweden and Norway have a "Nordic agreement"--Swedish nurses automatically get authorization in Norway. It's actually a bit of a problem--so many Swedish nurses are working in Norway for better pay than Sweden is facing a nursing shortage. Especially in the summer, when Norwegian nurses want to take their 4 weeks of vacation, and Swedish nurses take over Norwegian hospitals. (I am not kidding). Anyway. . . this Australian educated nurse applied for authorization in Sweden, and was told her education was just as good as the Swedish, and after meeting a few other requirements (a nursing exam, for one), she can get Swedish authorization and therefore, Norwegian.

So how does that work exactly? That Sweden evaluates the educations to be totally equal, yet Norway evaluates the Australian education to be so deficient they need to repeat the entire three years?! 

It all comes back to SAK's methods of evaluating and comparing credit hours between the Norwegian/European system and the non-European system. Norway counts all out-of-class hours in its "grand total" of study hours, while the non-European system only reports in-class lecture hours. You think this would be a simple problem to solve, as there are more than enough formulas and documents out there explaining how to compare these two credit systems. But, SAK has chosen to remain willfully ignorant and avoids any questions that directly address this issue.

Many nurses had their educations evaluated, were told they needed to complete anywhere from 12-24 weeks of clinical practice (unpaid, supervised), generally in areas of geriatrics, psychiatry and home health, or medical/surgical nursing. After completing this praksis, they resubmitted their applications and were then told "rules have changed" and they would need to repeat their entire education.

So, as these stories began coming out in the media, we finally begin getting support from various organizations--an international student organization for students who study abroad (ANSA) (as many of these nurses were studying abroad) and the Norwegian organization that evaluates and approves foreign degrees (NOKUT), to name two. The president of ANSA wrote a lovely editorial supporting me and others in my situation, and even had as a televised debate with the head of SAK. SAK became more and more defensive about their evaluation methods.

Erik, in the meantime, for the past year has been meeting and writing various members of Parliament on the Health Care Committee and engaging journalists in the story. A Facebook "support" group was formed for all of us who have been refused authorization--now totaling 90+ members, with our ringleaders being primarily the president of the student study abroad group (ANSA) and my dear husband, due to his deep involvement, knowledge and experience in the bullshit of my case, and a few of the of the really pissed off Australian educated Norwegian nurses, who desperately want to come home and put their degrees to work.

In February, came the first breakthrough. An American-educated Norwegian nurse (with 20 years work experience in the US) received authorization after she had a Norwegian college evaluated her American nursing education and deemed it jevngod "evenly good", or equal, to a Norwegian education. Interestingly, ironically and infuriatingly enough, this was the EXACT SAME Norwegian college that evaluated MY education, ALSO deemed it jevngod, who ALSO recommended that I be authorized as a nurse, but whose evaluation was then essentially ignored by the Health professional appeals board last May (the board that supposedly "knows better" and can override SAK)!!

About a month later, another breakthrough. This time, a non-Norwegian Australian educated nurse received authorization after a second Norwegian college evaluated his education and deemed it jevngod. Just as interesting, ironic, and infuriating (you guessed it) this same college deemed my own education jevngod several years ago, but their evaluation was tossed out as it was considered to have been "privately engaged" in my case.

But, all in all, these last two cases are extremely promising for me. The two aforementioned colleges have rewritten statements and letters of support declaring my education jevngod, along with two more evaluations. As of April 17th, these evaluations and my sixth application for authorization as a nurse and midwife were back in the hands of the powers-that-be at SAK.

Will keep you updated! Wish us luck!

School Start

My first-born, now 6-year old missing her 7^th tooth, started school in Norway on August 18^th.  There is no kindergarten for 5 year old in Norway, and I’ve learned at our first parent meeting that had I attended elementary school in Norway, I would not have begun school until ripe old age of 7 (as I believe is still the case in Finland)!

Starting school is a huge milestone in any child and parent’s life, although I realized that my anxiety and excitement about Greta starting school was definitely heightened due to the fact that she is taking this step in a foreign country, foreign culture, with foreign expectations. After Erik and I attended a new parent meeting at Greta’s school back in May, I was so grateful that I had four years to master the language before attending a meeting informing me of what a parent could expect with a first grader at our local school. I can’t imagine being unable to read the “Fredagsbrev” (Friday letter) that is sent home every week, or not understanding the weekly calendar.

Despite the reassurance and preparation we received from our parent meeting, I discovered on Day One of school that I had expectations that I didn’t even realize I had until those expectation weren’t met. I found myself really irritated that we hadn’t received a letter from the classroom teachers in the weeks leading up to school start explaining what school supplies a 6 year old needs. I found myself highly irritated that I could not find information anywhere—anywhere—on what the hours of school are for the 1^st grade class (they differ from grade to grade, and apparently, from school to school within the same town!). Not on the school’s website (a public school), or on the class page, or on the town’s official webpage. . . nowhere! We had received this information in May at the parent’s meeting on a piece of paper, but that had long since been misplaced. I eventually emailed the school, who forwarded it on to one of the classroom teachers, who responed almost immediately—the day before school started.

These minor and major surprises will most certainly keep popping up—expectations I have about how a “normal” first grade class functions, based solely on my own dim 33 year-old memories and stories I hear from friends back in the US.

We received a letter from the school the Saturday before school started, welcoming the parents and children to an official start of school send-off, meeting outside at the flagpole, at 10am for the new first graders. With Henrik happily off at barnehage, Erik and I walked the 0.8km with our growing girl to the local public school—Søre Ål barneskole. We met a mass of parents, children, grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings gathered at the flagpole.

Søre Ål skole has what they call an “open” classroom—an educational approach that has been used very successfully at this particular school for over 30 years, we are told. None of the other elementary schools in Lillehammer use this type of set-up, but we have heard that the teachers who work here are very satisfied and happy with this kind of organization. Greta’s class has 47 children in it, and three “kontakt” teachers. Each teacher has a set group of kids that they have primary responsibility for, but the children interact with each teacher as well. For math class, for example, the class is divided into three groups. For gym, they might divide into two, and alternate that activity with music, and then swap teachers.  For another lesson, an assistant might come in, and the class is divided into four.

The 47 children have two different rooms—one that has a divider down the middle, and another large open room where all 47 kids can sit in a circle on the floor. In the main classroom, the kids sit at tables of 5-6 kids (assigned, of course) and I’m told these table assignments will change over the school year. It is a system that sounds incredibly complicated and chaotic, but according to every parent that I have spoken to, it works.

So. . . 47 kids, plus their parents,  and potentially their grandparents, aunts, uncles,  and a few younger siblings are gathering at the flagpole. The rektor (principal) calls each child up individually to stand with their kontakt lære (main teacher). Some kids are nervous, and haul their parents along, too. Greta hangs back, but bravely marches forward with a gentle shove from her mamma.

I thought this was it (another expectation I didn’t realize I held). I thought we’d give her a hug and kiss goodbye , wave, and walk home for a cup of coffee before I had to turn around and pick her up in 2 hours and 45 minutes at 12:45 (more on that later).  But no. . . . now ALL the parents, grandparents and accessories go into school together, into the room designed to fit 47 kids in a circle on the floor. Now 47 kids plus 1-2 parents, some grandparents—let’s estimate 175+ people, shall we?—are trying to fit into a room where the teachers will welcome the kids and sing silly songs.

I whisper to another mother, “When do we go?” and she responded, “Oh-we stay all day!” And so it is in Norway. And so we stayed. Eventually the children separated from the parents—or most of them—and the parents hung around in the cloakroom, or outdoors on the picnic tables, drinking bad powdered coffee, occasionally peeking in on the kids, or quietly sitting on the edge of the classroom, or sometimes right next to their kids.

Which put me (Erik had since decided only one of us needed to hang out doing nothing with their day, and left for work, with a handful of other parents) in the situation that I hate most here in Norway—forced to mingle with a group of strangers, making small talk in a second language. Looking back it wasn’t nearly as bad as I perhaps thought at the moment—I now see these parents nearly every day, and will perhaps see them on a regular basis for the next upteen years, depending of course on the twists of fate.

The second day of school was how I expected the first day of school to be; I walked Greta to school, along with two other first-grade girls from our neighborhood, kissed her good-bye at the steps, and in she went. The third day of school surprised me—Greta met the two neighborhood girls, and the three of them walked to school alone.  And that has continued. For this, I feel very grateful to live in Norway and Lillehammer—that children are safe not just walking to school, but walking to school alone. Nearly all the children in the school are within walking distance to school, and certain neighborhoods organize “gågrupper” (walking groups) of children, so the sidewalks and paths are filled with children in the half hour before school starts. Older children are allowed to ride their bikes, but city/national laws (seriously—a national law) does not allow children under the 4^th grade to ride a bike to school. In the winter, many children will ski or take a spark (kicksled). That will be something to write about for sure.

Coming to the news on May 5th

I don't know if this will actually get seen by anyone in Norway early enough for them to see a live feed but tomorrow, Monday May 5th, NRK will air a news report on my on-going, now 3.5 year fight for authorization as a nurse and midwife in Norway.

The case will be aired on NRK radio, there will be two print versions available on nrk.no in both English and Norwegian, and a report will be on NRK evening news--first on the local Østnytt and hopefully on the national Dagsrevyen.

I will post links as soon as they are available.

In the meantime, our fingers are crossed.

The nursing/midwife saga update

My blogging efforts of late have been pathetic. But, to cut to the chase, I feel I need to update those curious on the details of my continued quest to work in Norway as a midwife. I apologize if this seems really disjointed (and not at all funny). I have written it several times over in the last few weeks as information evolves.

In mid-February (2014), I posted on Facebook that my final appeal for a nursing license had been denied. At that time, I thought that was true, and believed it was as black and white as “go start your education over again”. The actual decision, which we learned a few days later once it finally arrived in the mail, was that I must repeat 6 months of clinical training in geriatrics, home health care and psychiatric nursing. Then I can be authorized as a nurse. Then I must work for one year as a nurse in Norway. Then I can re-apply for the fourth time as a midwife. . . wait 6 months for a decision. . . perhaps need to appeal. . . .perhaps need to re-train 6-12 months, as was once originally recommended. . . and then 2-3 years down the road I might be able to work as a midwife. But, no guarantee. ‘Cause I’m not going to get that answer for another 1.5 years.

In May 2012, the appeals board had upheld the recommendationof SAK (the Norwegian authorization board) that I begin my entire nursing education from the beginning. They suggested I contact a nursing school and that perhaps I could get credit for a few of my American nursing courses.

That’s what we did. And what we found when contacting Norwegian nursing schools and nursing educators is that they were overwhelmingly supportive of my education and, after doing thorough reviews of my coursework and job experience, maintained that I did not need to repeat any nursing education. 

By September of 2013, with the help of an attorney, we finally managed to send in the following information to the appeals board, demanding that they do what is essentially an appeal of the original appeal (an omgjøringsbejæring), something that we didn’t know was an option until we actually spoke with an attorney.

*A four-page letter from a former dean of a local nursing program that explains how the number of credit hours I have earned as a nursing student in the United States actually exceeds the Norwegian hours. She points out that although I have fewer clinical hours than Norwegian, my 12 years of work experience can compensate for this.

*A letter from the fiery PhD-educated Norwegian nurse educator, stating the above as well.

*A letter from a third nursing college educator, stating that he agreed with the other two evaluations, and recommends that I become authorized as a nurse.

*A letter from a midwife who started the first and only master’s degree program for midwives in Norway, (of note: I have my master’s degree, nearly all midwifery programs in the US are master’s programs, and many are becoming doctoral programs), stating that my midwifery education and work experience is equal to a Norwegian, and she believes I should be authorized as a nurse and midwife.

*A letter from the regional office of the Norsk Sykepleierforbund (the Norwegian nurses union/professional organization) stating that they support my authorization as a nurse and midwife.

*A letter from the Norsk jordmorforbund (Norwegian midwife organization/union) supporting my authorization as a nurse and midwife.

*A letter from the Norsk jordmorforening (a second Norwegian midwife organization/union) supporting my authorization as a nurse and midwife.

In November, we heard that the appeals board would review my case in December, but they were first sending my paperwork to two new nurse educator/experts to review my application. They were not given any of the three letters from their fellow nurse educators to review, contradict, argue against, or agree with. We felt this was not a fair or complete evaluation, but there was nothing we could do, even with an attorney helping us out.

A day after the deadline for the new nurse experts to turn in their evaluations to the appeals board, one of them asked to see the “reading list” (essentially the syllabi) from my nursing classes at St. Olaf. This is despite the fact that she had detailed descriptions of every prerequisite class and every nursing class I took at St. Olaf. Needless to say, getting ahold of syllabi from 1995-97 was nearly impossible. The nursing department at St. Olaf bent over backwards trying to locate these, but were only able to find one

In mid-January we finally received the two reviews from appeals board’s experts. The first was completely in agreement with our four—that while Norwegian and American nursing education programs are different in their approach, if one looks at the entire content and the final result, combined with a decade of work experience—I should be granted authorization. The second evaluation—from the nurse educator who wanted the syllabi—focused on the number of hours that differed in our clinical training, and felt that if I did 24 weeks of supervised clinical training in geriatrics, home-health care and psychiatric nursing I could be authorized as a nurse.

The appeals board said they could not give any weight to the four evaluations that we had submitted, as they were “privately engaged” (even though they were supported by one of their own independent evaluations). And so they focused entirely on the evaluation that recommended I repeat 24 weeks of clinical training, and additionally took phrases out of context from the more favorable evaluation and used them to support the less favorable evaluation.  

The TV journalist who originally reported on my case back in November 2012 has been hot on this case. The nurses who wrote the independent positive evaluation have been interviewed, the midwives in charge of the midwife organizations and midwife education programs have been interviewed, as well as some of the members of the appeals board. Our house was full of four journalists a few days ago—TV journalist, print journalist for the online version, and two camera people—still and film, interviewing Erik and me, and capturing the darling American children speaking English and Norwegian. But I digress. . . The questions are, how can an appeals board of lawyers and judges, not one with an educational background, an only one nurse, feel that they are more qualified to evaluate a foreign nursing education than 6-10 nursing professionals? And how can they give so much weight to the most negative evaluation over the other 4-5 that are in agreement with one another?  

Erik and I don't know exactly where this is going. The report will likely air within the next few weeks, and it appears that it will be going national (writing that makes me sick to my stomach). Officially, we don't have any recourse in regards to the appeal aside from a lawsuit, which would cost us somewhere around $18,000 and another 9 months of waiting. That is not going to happen. But, there are enough very angry and powerful nursing professionals out there that, well, who knows what will happen. I am not alone in this fight--these nursing professionals are not fighting for my case alone--there have been dozens of other American-educated nurses turned away because of SAK's inability and unwillingness to recognize and understand the American credit system and acknowledge that there are other countries in the world that can adequately educated a nurse. What this case means for me, and for my fellow RNs. . . .? Only time will tell. 

And hopefully not too much time. To say that I am sick of waiting is the understatement of the century. I need a paycheck, like, yesterday. Those lawyer bills aren't going to pay themselves. 

An American's guide to napping your baby outdoors in the winter in Norway*

*Alternate title (according to my sister-in-law): "How to Raise a Viking"

Step 1

 Locate a pile of wool and fleece. 

Step Two

Locate a sleepy baby. 

Make sure he is dressed in a wool onesie (aka "body") and wool tights. 

Yes, even if baby is a boy baby, dress baby in tights. 

According to Norwegian folklore, it is of utmost importance that wool be the closest layer to the skin.

Fleece elf booties complete the look.

 Step Three

Dress the sleepy baby in a wool sweater and fleece overalls.

 Step Four

Dress baby in a wool hat that ties under his chin and 

a painstakingly knit over-sized wool bunting that is too cute for words.

Binky is optional.

Step Five

Wrap baby in a wool blanket. 

You now have a burrito baby.

Step Six

Place the burrito baby in a baby-sized sleeping baby.

Most Norwegian mothers will insist on a down bag.

Our baby has survived with fleece and polyfil. 

Step Seven

Baby is sleepy and ready for a nap!

(Trust me).

Step Eight

Place baby into the dark and cozy confines of his stroller.

Baby should lie on a stroller liner made of. . . 

you guessed it! Fleece and wool. 

Cover the baby burrito/sleeping unit with a windproof-fleece-lined cover.

 

Step Nine

If is is snowing/raining/sleeting, you may opt to cover your stroller with a rain cover. 

Ours has the zippers open for good air circulation. 

Take note of the baby monitor located in the basket under the stroller.

This ensures that the baby's happy gurgles of delight are heard once he awakens in several hours.

Note:

It seems that the general consensus is that babies not sleep outdoors in temperatures that are below -10C/10F.