GODKJENT! APPROVED!

I hope I haven't kept you in suspense for the last few weeks. As I wrote on the 19th of May,

Seeing is believing!
"Godkjenning autorisasjon"
Sykepleier og jordmor
until I'm 70 years old!

"all signs point to yes" and actually later that very afternoon my name appeared on the national registry of authorized health professionals, as a godkjent nurse and midwife. It was a little anti-climactic, following a week of suspicion and hope and signs in the right direction, to be notified via an online registry, of which I had been checking pretty obsessively all day long. Erik actually called me from Belgium to tell me he had seen my name. This was not the way I had imagined being notified.  

Fortunately, I would be able to reenact the way I had always imagined being notified, as NRK (Norwegian broadcasting news) wanted to film the opening of the official letters, which did not arrive for another three days. And since it was a long three day weekend, we actually delayed the opening of the letters--and the filming--until the following Tuesday (one week after we really knew), when the news crew arrived at our house at 9am. Talk about anti-climactic! That evening, the report aired on both the regional 7pm news and the national 9pm news! Erik had even done a kick-ass live interview on NRK radio talking about my case and what it means to many others (I declined to do any non-editable interviewing in Norwegian). So that evening, after sitting on this secret for a week, we decided it was high time we celebrate and invited friends and neighbors over, opened a few bottles of champagne, ate cake and watched the news together. 

Erik testing the lighting in our kitchen before the filming

Yes,the footage you see is a bit staged. My reaction is a reflection of some good acting genes but probably more accurately finally living out the scene that I have played over and over again in my head for the last 4 years and 7 months, and some genuine emotion of finally seeing the words in print. 

We are repeatedly asked to comment on our reaction, something that we thankfully had a week to think about. We are grateful, of course, to have this nightmare behind us. I am optimistic about the future and finally being able to work in a field where I am trained to work. We are really proud of the fact that without our efforts, well, it probably would have happened eventually, but we know we were key players in getting the credit transfer system recognized. We are really pleased this will help many other health care professionals from outside of the EU work in Norway. But, I'll be honest, we are pissed as hell that this took 4 years and 7 months, cost us an unknown amount of money, and the amount of blood, sweat and tears it took--the first two mostly Erik's and the last mostly mine--to have people in places of power (politicians, academics, institutional leaders, journalists) recognize the wrongs and the see the need to right them. I know that wasn't a proper sentence, but I don't have the energy to make it into one. You get the point. So, to open a letter that says simply "Godkjent", after all that effort, time, energy, money. . . well, it's a little deflating. 

Congratulations from Erik's colleagues
"We say only CONGRATULATIONS WITH THE VICTORY!"

One of the nursing professors that has been such a strong and influential supporter called me to congratulate me (after sending me flowers!!!) and when I tried to express my weirdly ambivalent and not entirely happy feelings, she said, "It's like you've been sitting for exams for the last 4 years, using massive amounts of energy and adrenaline to prepare and prove yourself, and suddenly it's over." 

And so that's where I've been sitting for the last month: the fight is over. I'm approved to work. I can look for a job. It's time to move on.

Below I will provide a Google translated version of NRK's written online report.

Making the news again!
"Finally she is allowed to work"
Link to NRK news report

Finally she is allowed to work

"I am relieved and happy that I finally received authorization. Now I can finally work as a midwife here in Norway", says Emily Stange.

Waited nearly five years'

Sad for Norwegian health administration- On behalf of the family Stange I am now very happy, but on behalf of the Norwegian health administration I am sad. It has long established an uncultured in this management arm, says Kjenseth.

Nothing has changedLooking ahead

There have been many rounds of applications and discounts for Emily Stange and family. When they came to Lillehammer from Vermont in 2010, thought the job was the smallest problem.

Stange has a bachelor's degree in nursing from the American-Norwegian St. Olaf College, in addition to a master's degree in midwifery and 12 years of practice. She has also taught both nursing and medical students.

But none of the applications Emily has sent to the State Authorization for Health Personnel (SAK) has been approved. They have argued that rod education has not met the formal requirements of the law.

- Time The number of the applicant in her education, is far below the standard requirements of the EU. Long professional experience can not compensate for this, said Director of the Board, Øyvind Bernatek NRK one year ago.

But now Stange can work as a midwife in Norway anyway. SAK writes:

"After a new review of your education as a midwife, we consider that you meet the requirements for certification as a midwife pursuant to the Health § 48 subsection c)."

Several parliamentarians have taken up the cause to Stange. Ketil Kjenseth (V) sits in Health Care Committee and is disappointed over the process. 

THANK Emily's husband: Parliament Politicians Ketil Kjenseth (V) has been involved in Emily case and thanks her husband Erik Stange to have documented and fought against management practices in this matter.

He believes the problem is extensive and talks about a number of queries with similar experiences as Emily.

Also the Association of Norwegian foreign students ANSA react. They believe SAK wastes with high competence.

- I am very happy at Emily's behalf and for the authorization office has done that we have recommended for a long time, and now look at ECTS (credits) instead of number of hours. Now SAK should go through all similar refusal in recent years and treat them according to the same rules, says the president of ANSA, Madeleine Mowinckel.

Study and research director at the College of Gjøvik, Gunn Rognstad has supported Stange from the start. So has also has academic staff from colleges in Hedmark, Buskerud and Vestfold. "Authorization could just as easily gotten four years ago, after taking and passing a test in national health care. The main problem all the way to an unclear understanding of the calculation of the scope of the content of education between SAK, healthcare committee and health ministry about which rules should be applied to process applicants from abroad," says Rognstad.

- "We do not want to express an opinion on individual cases, but may state that some applicants of SAK was considered to satisfy the conditions for authorization after carrying out a specified period of supervised practice", says Anne Harseth Barlow in SAK.

She says that Emily Stange recently took 12 credits in geriatrics, and that this was decisive that she was granted authorization.**

- "I'm really looking forward to working with what I can and hope the work we have done can help others to get authorization on a more timely basis", says Stange.

**I haven't blogged about my 12 credits/8 weeks of geriatric clinicals that I completed in February/March and how enlightening and educational they were to my ability to work as nurse. Perhaps I should do that someday. 

Hope

Months have sped by, and my motivation to blog through the after-effects of my nursing course, Christmas preparations, two solid months of work, growing a baby and general day-to-day life busyness has been minimal. 

But I do owe you a few updates. . . 

The last real development in my quest for nursing/midwifery authorization was in late November, when a few members of Parliament spoke out in my behalf. But the buzz and momentum fizzled a bit after that, due to a combination of more pressing healthcare and other political events (hard to believe, I know) and Christmas break. 

I cannot be terribly specific in describing with whom we've been consulting, but after months and months of emails and phone calls and referrals from one person to another, we've eventually nailed down a few players in higher-up nursing/midwifery circles who are supportive, understanding, disgusted, and began working "undercover," so to speak. Many feel that they cannot officially come out and support me publicly, which has been a bit frustrating. It was also suggested that we form a Facebook "support group" where people can officially and publicly voice their support and let it be known to SAK (the artists formerly known as SAFH, the Norwegian authroization office for health professionals) that we ain't goin' away. Two who have supported the group include the local county/regional office of the Norsk Sykepleierforbund (the Norwegian nursing association/union) who is calling for SAK to reevaluate my application, based on the evaluation done by the local college research dean who judged that my bachelor's degree nursing education and work experience equaled (and exceeded) what her educational institution could offer me as a new nursing student. Also supporting the group is the member of Parliament who initially spoke out on my behalf. You can find the support group here: Støttegruppe for Emily Stange. 

Since then, Erik (and Greta) and I traveled to Oslo this past week, armed with binders of documents and correspondence, and met with the member of Parliament to discuss possible courses of action. We also met with two other powerful nursing figures who seem to have more connections than the Queen herself. For example, when we mentioned that we had been in contact with (names have been changed for the time being. . . ) Kari Nordmann, former head of a midwife organization, who cannot understand the reasoning behind SAK denying my midwife application, one of our two powerful nursing figures said, "Oh yes, she's my best friend. I'm having lunch with her next week. We'll contact this other Powerful Nursing Figure and get this straightened out." 

I have not allowed my hopes to get raised at all in the past few months, as they have tended to get dashed shortly thereafter. But even I will admit that these were very positive meetings with tremendous potential and--dare I say it outloud--I do have some hope for the first time in a very, very long time. 

Bachelorette days in Oslo

I moved into a bachelor's apartment in Oslo on Monday, as I began a four-week long nasjonal fag kurs for sykepleie (a national "subject" course for nurses). This course is required for any nurses seeking authorization in Norway who were educated outside of the European Union, as it addresses the Norwegian health care system, welfare system and spends an inordinate amount of time assuring that we can properly calculate medication administration. For many in the class it is the final step before they are fully authorized. For me, it is actually no longer a requirement, since SAFH and the appeals board decided that rather than doing a few months of clinical experiences like every other person in my class, I should instead begin my nursing education again, or try to get a few measly courses from my pathetic education approved by a nursing program and maybe, just maybe, I can shorten my study period by a few courses. It is no longer a requirement since I would presumably get all of the course information in a real Norwegian nursing educational program. 

So, why am I taking the class, you ask, since it is no longer required? Well, since I have no intention of ever repeating my basic bachelor degree nursing education, I still cling to the hope that I may someday be authorized through other avenues--media pressure, legal attention, etc. I realize, however, that I will still be required to take this class, if I ever by the grace of God, gain authorization in Norway. And this I have no arguments with. Since I have sat on a waiting list for over a year, and the class is only offered twice a year in two locations in Norway, I had to jump on the opportunity to take it now. 

Taking a two hour and 11 minute train ride two times every day was not a viable option for me, so after a bit of desperate last-minute scrambling, we found a barely reasonably priced apartment to rent in the Majorstuen neighborhood of Oslo (costing us about $1200 for the month, if you are curious). It is a 20 minute walk from the Pilestredet campus of the Høyskole i Oslo (Oslo University College) and very conveniently located to the metro, shops and even a local campus of my gym. So, I'm living it up in Oslo for the next month! I've always daydreamed--when walking past the lovely brownstone homes in Boston or New York, or the gracious, wrought-iron decorated apartments in Stockholm, Oslo or any other romantic European city--what it would be like to live there. Now, without my husband and daughter and dog, I get to try out that life. I'm looking forward to it, and dreading it as well. 

I am nervous about so many of the unknowns for the following month: how the class is actually evaluated, if my language skills are up to par, how difficult the written work/reading assignments will be, how much time is demanded of us out of class, how much I will miss my family during the week, how comfortable my living arrangements will be, and not least of all, how lonely I will be. 

Three days into the experience, all is going well. More on the class to follow. . . 

Is something working in my favor???

My motivation to write lately has been sapped. I feel like my blog has become a bitch-about-Norway blog, and that was never my intention. I actually do have moments of complete contentment, peace and a sense of Life is Good. It doesn't happen often, but they do come. And I have inspiring ideas of humorous, entertaining posts to write, but find myself struggling to get the ideas onto the screen.


As I wrote earlier, I started two new jobs in June. One is at Maihaugen, working in the musueum shop. The other is at a local nursing home as an uncertified nursing assistant. I just finished a stint of 8 days in  row between the two jobs, including this unpleasant back and forth and back and forth between evenings shifts (ending at 10/10:30pm) followed by day shifts (starting at 7/7:30am), and then back again. This apparently is the "Norwegian way" of working shifts in the health care field. An evening shift followed by a morning shift. It sucks. 


My two-ring binder of papers, licenses, letters of support, etc. remains in the hands of our well-connected neighbor at the college nursing department. We haven't heard from her since mid-June. Seeing that most Norwegians are wrapping up their 3-week summer vacation, that's not too surprising. I'm very used to playing the waiting game, so I'll just keep on waiting. 


A few weeks back, however, we had a small piece of hopeful news. One of the many hoops for nurses educated outside of Norway is the 4-week long "national nursing course" that brings us outlanders up to speed on the Norwegian health care system. You might remember that I have tried to get into this class for over a year, but was denied for a variety of reasons. You might also remember that mid-way through this whole process they suddenly raised the bar for the language standards to take the class, now requiring the Bergenstest--written and verbal. You might also remember that I then proceed to not pass either Bergenstests this past spring. It was not a complete surprise, but still felt like a huge setback. 


Until a few weeks ago. Because this new language standard is so new, there are not a lot of people who were able to pass the test. On the admission website to the nursing course it is explained that first priority admission is given to those who have passed the Bergenstest, but those who have the lower language standard will be put on a waiting list. I've been on a waiting list for a year.


There are 80 people admitted to the course. 20 people passed the Bergenstest. 60 spots are open. There is not an opportunity to take--and get results--of another Bergenstest before the next nursing class in November, so the chance that 60 people with passing Bergenstest results sign up for the class is essentially 0. 


I am number 4 on the waiting list. 


Finally. Something is working out. Looks like I'll be spending November in Oslo!

Erik says I owe you this one

When you last saw our heroes, they were crumpled in the middle of the living room floor, weeping over the idiocy of Norwegian bureaucrats. Rest assured, gentle readers, your heroes have risen to battle once again. Because it's either that or. . . well, yeah. Not many other options.

Erik told me I owe you all an update, so you don't think we have been completely beaten down by The Man. We have made some promising connections, and are allowing ourselves to be the slightest bit hopeful. Turns out Erik's boss is a rather well-connected guy. Turns out he kind of values Erik's work and wants to keep him around. Turns out Erik won't be staying around much longer if his wife has to work as an underemployed, underpaid nursing assistant. A few emails were exchanged, and a few days later a nursing researcher and former head of the nursing department from a local college came walking through our front door. Literally. (The door was wide open, because it was such a beautiful evening). Turns out she lives about 200m away.

We gave her a large two-ring binder (yes, they only have 2 rings in Norway, not 3) that chronologically  detailed the application, judgement, appeal, request for information, information supplied, judgement, appeal, summary of appeal, special appeal and final judgement of the past 20 months. She has apparently butted heads with SAFH in the past, and has dealt with other foreign-educated nurses seeking approval of their nursing education. As we sat around our dining room table, giving her a few details of my education and work experience, as well as the final judgment from the appeal board, she kept repeating "Unbelievable. . . Horrifying."

As the final appeal verdict stated, I essentially need to enroll in a nursing school again. But the nursing schools have the flexibility to approve courses from other educational institutions (something that SAFH claims they can do, but never actually do).

So, that's where we stand. A glimmer of hope.

Numb in Paradise

This past week Norway burst its way into summer. Our apple trees are in full bloom, the lawn demanding attention and the lilacs are timing their arrival perfectly with my parents arrival on Friday. We hung a swing from the apple tree for Greta, who has been soaking in lots of Vitamin D. 


I posted this picture on Facebook, and a friend commented "you live in a fairy land". Looking out from our kitchen window, seeing my daughter scamper about in our generous-by-Norwegian-standards-yard with our neighbor's kids, enjoying our first dinner of the season outdoor under the apple tree, I'd have to agree. I responded, "I know. I see this and think, "I have to do everything in my power to make this work out here. How can I leave this???"


The answer to our appeal on my nursing and midwife license application came in the mail today, and it was not the answer to our prayers. Their final judgment--one we cannot appeal--is that I should enroll myself in nursing school, and try to get credit for some of the classes I took 15 years ago. 


We are stunned. Dumbfounded. I was numb. Erik was devastated and perhaps the angriest I've ever seen him before. I was worried he might punch a hole in a wall that he had framed, sheet-rocked, mudded, primed and painted with his own two hands. And then we crumpled in the middle of our living room floor together, and wept. 

Appeals board tomorrow

Tomorrow Erik and I will travel to Oslo to meet with the Helsepersonnelnemda (the Health Personnel independent appeals board) who will review both my nursing and midwife license applications for the last time.

It is a long awaited day. This process began in October 2010, when I sent in pages and pages of documentation of my transcripts from my bachelor’s and master’s degrees, along with long letters from my advisors and department chairs, explaining what topics were covered in each course, and how many hours and weeks were spent in each course and in every area of clinical practice.

This process was repeated again in February 2011, after SAFH (the folk who review these applications) concluded (after 4 months of contemplating their belly button) that I had a two year degree in nursing and not a four year degree. More papers, more letters, more documents.

And we repeated this process a third time in August 2011, when they decided a second time that my nursing degree was not thorough enough, and I needed more training in psychiatry and medical/surgical nursing. (Yes folks. . . I want to work as a midwife. This does not matter to them).

It was only after an article appeared in the local paper in November 2011, featuring my case and the long process, that SAFH quickly responded—with two decisions this time—the first time they even bothered to consider my midwife application. They denied both applications, stating again that I needed more training for a nursing license, and claiming that I since I didn’t document any of the patients I had seen as a midwife student, I could not be licensed as a midwife.

In January 2011 I sent in 45 pages documenting the over 800 patients I saw as a student midwife, clearly labeling how each patient fell into each category—prenatal, postpartum, high risk, birth, newborn. SAFH’s response, in February 2011, was essentially “there’s no way to prove these are real, as they don’t look official”. No letter from them stating “this looks like a lot of patients—could you somehow verify them.” No contacting my advisor or the chair of the midwifery department, despite offers from them both in the numerous documents they prepared on my behalf. It was almost as if they said “Shit. This is a lot of paperwork that we don’t want to deal with. Let’s just send it on to the appeals board. That’s what they are there for.”

So, on to the appeals board we go.  An independent appeals board, or so they say, and so we hope. More documents, more paperwork, more verification, more last minute panicky emails to my advisors, and several sob sessions on our living room couch, wondering what the fuck I was thinking getting myself into in this kind of situation.

I am not going to be so arrogant or so naive as to think that everything I learned in American nursing/medical training translates directly and smoothly to nursing and midwifery care in Norway. I acknowledge that some training time would be both valuable and justifiably required. But to go back and enroll myself in a university again for both degrees, and ask for credit on classes I’ve taken? I just might be so arrogant as to say “I’m not going there.”

Tomorrow is a big day. The appeals board decision will likely make those final hurdles clear—just how high they are, how many more, and how far away the finish line is. And then the toughest decision of them all: is it all worth it at the finish line? Do I even bother finishing this race? Or will I decide, “you know. . . I was prepared for a 100m hurdle race, I could suffer through a 400m hurdle race, but I will never do the steeplechase. I’ve got better things to do in life than run around this track a dozen times, jump over barriers and land in water on the other side, and end up soaking wet and exhausted at the end”.

*Hoping* it's all done: no more Bergenstest

Saturday morning I spent about $85 to take a two and a half hour train (actually bus) ride to Oslo, then another $150 to have a 10-minute conversation with a teacher who would then judge if my Norwegian was good enough, or not good enough, to work in the health care field in Norway.

That about sums it up.

I took the written skriftlig Bergenstest about 3 weeks ago now, the test that allows a non-native Norwegian speaker to gain admittance into a Norwegian university. I need it to take a course that will allow me to work as a nurse in Norway. These are brand-spanking new regulations as of last November, if anyone out there is saying "uh-uh. . . I didn't have to do that. . ." To those of you who are  very nervous about the oral Bergenstest: I write this for you.


The written test was challenging, mostly because it is divided into 5 sections of reading, writing, listening and comprehension and you must pass all five parts. Because the oral muntlig Bergenstest is mostly for foreigners who wish to work in the health care field, there aren't a lot of us out there taking this test (hence the 2.5 hour train ride to Oslo). In fact, when I asked my teacher--my teacher in the Bergenstest preparation class--what she knew about the oral test, she had to look it up on the internet, because it's been several years since she had just one student take it. Our class has been very much in the mode of Teach To The Test, but just the written test--no focus on the oral at all.

To say I felt unprepared is an understatement. But to be perfectly honest, I really didn't give it much thought. In fact, it wasn't until I was walking up the stairs in the building of the test site that I began to feel a little bit nervous. My teacher told me to just relax and remind myself it's just a simple converation. A German friend reminded me to speak slowly, telling me that we-foreign-speakers try to speak Norwegian quickly "inanattempttohideourmistakesandmakeussoundmorenorwegian". Good insight.

I walked into the building, 15 minutes early (having registered a few hours earlier, and then spent 1.5 hours wandering around the neighborhood trying not to get lost), and the test proctor met me at the door: "Emily?"
"Ja?" sa jeg.
"We can test you now, the 12:45 student didn't show up."
"Ok!" sa jeg. "Jeg er klar, hvis jeg kan bare gå på do først!"
"Of course! I think it's better to just get this out of the way, then you're not so nervous."

We sat down at a small table across from one another, and another proctor sat at a table a few meters away from us. They asked me to tell me a bit about myself. I recited the sentences every Norwegian student knows by heart after the first week in class. My name is xxx, I come from xxx, I moved here xxx, I am educated as a xxx, I work as a xxx, I am married, i have xxx children. . .

Then she presented me with 3 lamenated pages. Each page had about 5 pictures on it. She told me I would choose one page, and I would be asked to describe the pictures, then I'd be asked to agree or disagree with a statement, and then we'd have a very short conversation about the topic.

My options consisted of digital communication (with pictures of computers, cell phones and email), sports and, I believe, gambling, and immigrant issues. To tell you the truth, I didn't even reallly look at the last two options. Knowing nothing about gambling and sports, and not really identifying with "immigrant issues in Norway", seeing that I am a white woman from a developed Western land, I choose the topic of digital communication.

First: describe what you see in the pictures. This was not elaborate, deep thoughts here people. "That's a computer, looks like they're talking on skype with each other. I really like skype--it helps me stay in contact with my family and friends. . . here's a cell phone, and they're sending an SMS to someone. Norwegians realy like to send SMS (it's true). . . "

Then the woman asked me to talk about the statement on the flip side: "I think digital technology has made us more lonely/alone". She told me I could take a few minutes to jot down a few notes, which for some reason or another, I declined and just jumped right in. (I think perhaps my confidence was positive???) I disagreed, and gave a few sentences of why I felt the way I did. Three sentences top.

Then she asked me a few questions (this is the "conversation" part of the test, but really was rather one sided): What are the dangers of technology and youth? What problems might there be with the elderly and technology? It is possible that we can get overwhelmed by the information out there? What dangers are there with security?

One thing I think everyone who is learning a foreign language learns to do is dance around what you really want to say until you find a sentence that contains the vocabulary that you actually possess. This "skill" was put to good use in that final section.

"Ok!" she said, after no more than 10 minutes, "We're done!"
"Completely done?" I asked. . . totally shocked.
"Ja!" 


This was actually a very good sign. In the test information it states that if there is any doubt about your ability to communicate, we could be asked to do a fourth section--looking at a graph or diagram of sorts, and asked to describe what it showed. Seeing that this didn't happen, I was incredibly encouraged.

In the hallway a few other students waited, nervously wringing their hands. Another man bounced down the hall, a big grin on his face. He reassured one of the nervous women: "It's easy! They are very nice!"

Results come in two weeks, along with the written test results.

The A4 Envelope

I received another A4 envelope in the mail last Friday.

A4 is the European "standard" size paper, the Euro 8.5"x11". As my Norwegian class read about the "typisk Norsk" who goes skiing, eats brown cheese and lefse, and only dresses in wool, my teacher referred to the "A4 Norwegians"--the standard family with 2 kids, a Volvo station wagon, a labrador retriever and a "rekkehus" (row house). I was secretly pleased to have caught the cultural reference to the standard "A4" Norwegian, but then also rather struck by the similarities between the American Dream and the A4 Norwegian dream. (Although the typical American would probably consider the average Norwegian row house to be a little small.)

So, I received my A4 envelope. From SAFH. Informing me that, again, I do not meet Norwegian standards for nursing or midwife education, and that both applications would be sent on to the independent appeals board for review. I was not surprised by this response, at least not for the nursing application. Erik and I felt I had submitted a very thorough response to the deficiencies SAFH stated I hadn't addressed on my midwife application, but apparently not so. Their complete refusal to acknowledge that any of my points had any validity at all was rather stunning. Enough to get my thoughts swimming back across the Atlantic, back to where the grass is greener.

But the roller-coaster ride continued. . . In tears after reading through the double refusal letter from SAFH, I  "got my shit together", so to speak, and went to my first job interview that afternoon. Maihaugen is hiring summer employees: ticket sales, museum store employees, tour guides, "actors" in the exhibitions. If I understood the interviewers correctly, they had over 250 applicants, and our group of 7 interviewees were the "cream of the crop". I did it all in Norwegian, and apparently well enough that one of the interviewers said, "you are speaking Norwegian very well for only having lived here 18 months". Her comment, combined with my nervous adrenaline, elevated my mood for the rest of the evening.

I rode that high through Saturday, a beautiful sunny spring day, which also happened to be my birthday. Home with my family the whole day in our nearly completed living room, Skype calls with loved ones, out for a sunny walk to a cafe for lunch, and home again for homemade chocolate cake, were more high points on the roller-coaster.

On Sunday, my mood came crashing down again. Still sunny and warm, but the reality of more waiting--the appeals board says the average waiting time is 3-4 months--combined with the realities of a job search in Norway and the slightly depressing reality of another birthday, made for a difficult day.

I long for the days when I knew what the day would hold, what my life would hold, or at least felt like I had the emotional capacity to handle what was thrown my way. That A4 envelope sat on my dining room table, and I thought "do I dare open it, and have it ruin my weekend?" But then again, could I really let it sit there all weekend long, taunting me with its contents? The roller-coaster was inevitable.

"The Emily-Case"

"Sorry, Emily"

On Wednesday, the day following my front page news headline and the immediate email response from SAFH (telling me, essentially, "we've only slightly changed our opinion on your mediocre education and work experience. You need more basic nursing student experiences), I was in the paper again. Twice. 


The first mention was a mini-editorial on page 2. It read:
GD brought yesterday the story of American Emily Stange struggling to obtain approval for her education from home. Years of work as a nurse and midwife is clearly not sufficient to resume training and practice in Norwegian working life. This is not a training example of how modern Norwegian society should take care of new citizens.

The Government has announced a parliamentary statement about integration. The notified measures for rapid recognition of immigrants' skills. Until the new decision is made it must nevertheless be allowed to use reason. The Emily-case is a good example of this.


So, that was nice. I've got the editors of the paper on my side. The "Emily-case". Makes me sound like a Law and Order episode.  Also got a few words of encouragement from the lady behind the counter at the new coffee shop, who recognized me from the paper! 


The second mention was a follow up article, written by the same journalist as the first. There are a few quotes from the communication director at SAFH, which I found interesting to learn that there was more than one person weighing in on this "case". I wasn't, however, entirely satisfied with the conclusion. Several people who read it were left to believe that everything was approved and all is A-OK. Not so.


Here's the article, again, according to the Gospel of Google Translate (with a few of my own editorialized comments for good measure):


We're sorry, Emily! (that makes it sound more apologetic than I think they really are)

The responsibility lies flat and regret that it has taken an unreasonably long time for Emily Stange to approve their education. Yesterday, she got an answer. (although not the one I was hoping for)

GD wrote Tuesday about the nurse and midwife Emily Stange from the United States. She has been waiting over a year to obtain approval for their education so that she can work in Norway.

"SAFH acknowledges that the appeal proceedings have beenunreasonably prolonged. This is not how it should be, and we regret this," says communications director, Magnus Karlsrud Dahlen.

DEMANDING
He says that the authorization of health professionals trained outside the EU is a challenging task, more complicated than for applicants educated in European countries. (Here's an idea: TELL THE PEOPLE FROM OUTSIDE THE EU THAT IT TAKES MORE TIME FOR THEM).

"Documents must be verified and training be reviewed to ensurethat the applicant has an equivalent education with an similar Norwegian education," he says. (does equivalent mean identical?)

They pointed out that the procedure for Stange in the first halfwas completed within the specified three to four months. (yes, but taking 4 months to not even read the application correctly the first time, when it clearly was documented in multiple places that I had a 4-year degree, and not a 2-year degree as you stated, doesn't seem like a good use of your 4 months). It is for the processing of the complaint office lie flat and acknowledges that the waiting time has been unreasonably long. (it should also be noted that my second application was not actually sent to the "complaint" office, or so we were told, since they had f*#@ed it up so much the first time).

BECOMING BETTER
AFH has initiated a review of procedures and organization.(No idea what AFH is). The goal is that all matters, including complaints, should be treatedmore efficiently and with better quality.

"We want to offer health care personnel who are seeking authorization and license in Norway, a thorough and predictable procedure," said Karlsrud Dahlen.

For Emily Stange some extra practice is required before her education can be approved. (and before they will even consider her application to be a midwife, which is really what she wants to do for employment).


What's next?
Stay tuned. . . I'm trying not to think too much about this right now, and am actually doing a good job at it--until I sit down and blog. 


(Although those of you from Norway who are reading this blog and not commenting. . . if you have any opinions, thoughts, have heard of similar situations, know of someone who dealt with something like this:  Please let me know! I'd really appreciate it).

Newspaper, day two

So, what happened after my appearance on the front page of our local paper, criticizing a Norwegian governmental agency?


By 12:48pm that same afternoon I had an email in my inbox from the section leader of the nursing-license agency. It was a brief email, and basically said: "I regret that the processing of your complaint has taken a long time. SAFH has considered your complaint and added your comments and new information as a basis for review of your application for certification as a nurse. Our original decision to reject is now changed. I refer to an unsigned copy of the new decision that is attached."


Our original decision to reject is now changed! I wasn't floating on clouds, but I must admit--I was feeling pretty smug. It wasn't until about 5 minutes later than I realized there was an attached PDF and I opened the 4-page document, written in Norwegian. of course Having seen one of these letters before, I flipped to the final page, where they summarize their requirements. And there it was:


"In order to document that you have the necessary skills as a nurse in the Norwegian health care system, you must go through and pass the following courses and practice."


1. 3-week class in national subject for nurses (this was not a surprise, this is required for all foreign-educated nurses)
2. Minimum 6 weeks supervised clinicals in psychiatric healthcare (Still....???)
3. Minimum 5 weeks supervised clinical in medicine or surgery nursing  (Whaaa . . .???)


How is this different from their decision, after wrongly interpreting my four-year bachelor + master's degrees in nursing to be a two year degree, that they made in January 2011? What did they require me to do then?


4. 8 weeks of eldery care nursing (this is now removed)
5. National licensing exam for new nurses (thank God. . . this was a huge one).


BUT. . . 
After providing them with 12 weeks of full-time student employment on a med-surg floor, plus the documentation about my master's degree training, (not to mention our referring them to a Norwegian woman with a St. Olaf nursing degree just 3 years younger than I, who was approved for a license without all the bullshit extra clinicals). . . they did not change their requirements on psych clinicals at all, and they only reduced their requirements for med/surg clinicals from 8 weeks to 5 weeks! 


Don't read any further Mom, 'cause I'm about to use some profanity. . . 


WTF???

Me. . . in the news

This past spring, the Norwegian Parliament passed a recommendation on integration of foreigners/immigrants into the Norwegian workplace. Among other things, they strongly encouraged "improving measures for rapidly recognizing immigrants' education and skills". A reporter at our local Lillehammer newspaper, "Gudbrandsdølen Dagningen", known as "GD" (and pronounced: Gay-Day, because that's how you say "G" and "D" in Norwegian), anyway. . . the reporter was writing a series of stories about foreigners and their challenges of finding work in Norway. Last week she wrote a nice article about a local boutique that hired an Afghani woman to work, and what a great situation it's been for employee and employer. My former landlady, fellow barnehage mother, and now friend, is an editor of the paper, and told her colleague that she should talk to me, as I am a rather qualified nurse and midwife who can't get permission to work in this fine country.


I met the reporter on Monday morning. I told her my story, 95% in Norwegian. The latest update on my nursing license application is that in September I turned in paperwork clarifying student work experiences I had in 1996. We were told at the time that my application was at the top of the pile. Then two months passed. We called and called, never getting ahold of anyone. Finally, 3 weeks ago they say we should have a letter in 10 days. I was interviewed for this article on Day 19.


Here's the front page from Tuesday: front page!!!

Yes, that's ME, upper left corner!
The title reads: Over one year has gone
without approval. Nurse and midwife
education and over 12 years experience
in the USA is maybe not good enough
in Norway? It has been over one year
since Emily Stange sought approval from
Statens autorisajonskontor for helsepersonell.

And then, here's the article, translated with much help from GoogleTranslate:

Yes, this picture is about 8x10 inches tall. 

Intro:
Emily Stange is educated as a nurse and midwife from the USA and has more than 12 years of experience. But to get approved competence in Norway has proved to be a tough process.

Lillehammer: All immigrants should get credit for their competence, according to NOU 2011-14. The study is part of the basis for this spring's Parliament Paper on better integration of foreigners.

Emily Stange could not agree more. She longs to use her midwife education in this country, but has so far waited for over one year for approval.

DRAWN OUT

In August last year Emily came to Lillehammer together with her husband and daughter. Her husband who is also American, is long in the job as a research scientist at NINA.

Emily also believed it would be a cinch to get the paperwork in order.

"On the website of SAFH we were promised a waiting period of three to four months. Now it's been one year, and neither the midwife nor the nursing license has been approved. We have called and asked many times about how long I have to wait and have received various answers. It's almost an all-day job just to get in touch with the right person", says Emily.

Last she and her husband contacted SAFH,  they were told that she should receive a reply within ten days.  Now, three weeks have passed. . . 


WAS NAIVE?

The treatment of Emily's application was lopsided from the start. In January, she received a letter that she only had two years of nursing education and that her education, therefore, was not approved.

"They obviously had not read the application, where it is clear that my nursing education is four years. The whole process was set back five months at that point", says the 36-year-old.


She has a bachelor's degree as a nurse from St. Olaf College and a master's degree as a midwife from the University of Utah. For six years she has worked as a midwife at a large hospital in New Hampshire. Before that, she worked over six years as a nurse in a newborn intensive unit with a children's hospital in Salt Lake City. 


"I think I had a good education and great work experience from a pretty large and well-known country. Therefore I thought it should be totally fine to be able to use my education in Norway. Perhaps this was a bit naive?" asked Emily.


FRUSTRATED
She has experienced the waiting time as frustrating; an emotional roller-coaster. She has passed the time by learning better Norwegian and doing home improvements on a house in Søre Ål. 


"I've spoken with the midwives at the hospital in Lillehammer. They have been very encouraging. I think the Norwegian system seems square and not very flexible. It is as if the people at SAFH are sitting with a microscope to find anything that doesn't pass exactly, instead of focusing on the whole picture. In the first place, I have to wait for my nursing education to be approved. They haven't even begun on my midwifery application. This should be possible to coordinate", according to the health care worker, who is just waiting to get to work. "My husband has a good job in Lillehammer and we intend to stay here. But it can only happen if I, too, may use my education."




So, in the end. . . what happened? 
Stay tuned til tomorrow. I can only translate so much in one day. . .