"Media Presence"

So when you choose to write instead of drink to cope with a pandemic, you suddenly are left with an upcoming memoir and no freaking idea what to do next. I have leaned hard on the professionals on this subject, and this website is a result of their wisdom and guidance.


My project manager asked me about my “media presence.” Dude, I am OLD. Like, life before internet old. I do not have a media presence. Hell, if you read my book, you will find that I have a questionable real-world presence. In no way should I be allowed to be in charge of this.


I am the opposite of a salesperson. You think when you write something, that you are done writing. Nobody tells you that you will have to write about your writing, like I have opened the door and suddenly and supposed to be this person that people want to hear from. Shit.





So here I am, writing about writing. Or about life. Or whateverthefuck you all will want me to babble about. It feels good to write and maybe one or two of you will enjoy reading about my ridiculous attempts at being an adult or a parent or a nurse. That is what I plan to do here. This will be the inside of my brain, barfed out onto a pretty page, for your reading entertainment. Or my therapy. One or the other. Maybe both if I am doing a decent job.


I am excited to see the book in print. It feels very weird to say that I am excited about something that represents the hardest year of my life, but I am. I think there will be this moment of wholeness when I finally can hold it in my hands. To have my story out there, that moment of vulnerability when the pieces of my voice that I have put out there are all combined and made real. It is terrifying and cleansing and healing.


Nurses are struggling. I hope that by the time you are reading this, I do not have to talk about COVID anymore. That we can finally breathe and heal. It is not looking good, and the Delta variant is fucking with my pretty ending. I wanted to move on. But here we are. So once again, I am in limbo waiting to see what happens. Putting my emotions back into the box where I keep them, to be dealt with when this threat has passed. Back into action. So once again, we are on “will continue to monitor” status. Fuck.


I have never been on Twitter. I didn’t even understand what the hell Link’d In was (I honestly just had to Google how to spell that shit). I have Facebook that I used for funny kid stories before I became the Mouthy COVID Nurse. I did not even really hashtag my IG posts until these people made me. So my “media presence” is pretty lame.


Therefore, I am relying on you reading this. If you enjoy my mouthy ass, please consider purchasing my book. If you are a nurse and have struggled this past many months, there are mental health questions in the back for you. If you love a nurse or anybody who has been in healthcare or on the frontlines, read this. Maybe this will help you understand what we have gone through. If you are a mom who had to spend eleventybillion days home with your offspring, you might enjoy this also. Spread the word.


This is going to be my space. My diary. My spot for all of the fun and silly and swearwordy things. Welcome.

This Nurse Mom- Amanda Peterson_edited.jpg

Hi, thanks for stopping by!

Amanda is a married mother of two goofy kids. She has been a nurse since 2006 and worked in ICU since 2008. Because life was not insane enough, she decided to go back to grad school to be an Acute Care NP. They told her this was a stressful program. They did not anticipate her husband getting cancer in year one and a global pandemic in year two and three. She volunteered as a COVID ICU in March of 2020, and for the next year relied on God, caffeine, and swear words. And she wrote.

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