Yes, I am aware that many of you check in here to see how I am doing and right now I am hanging on by a thread. I am a week and half away from being finished with the first semester of this journey. I mostly can't believe I have made it. This week I had a great clinical week. I took care of a 31 year old woman that had a stroke hours after she found out she was pregnant with her second child. Very sad! However, she is doing "relatively" well and they were working on getting her to a place where she can go to rehab. She really responded to me and that was exciting. Her mother who was there the majority of the time, told me she thought I wast he "real deal" not a student nurse. That was a good feeling, knowing I can pull off the whole gig confidently enough, and the truth is that I am getting more competent and confident in doing all the things nurses do.
So although I am learning a lot I am looking forward to getting through this summer and getting on to the baby's and moms that I am looking forward to working with. It will come and I am settling into the fact that this is a long journey ahead of me and I am trying to figure out a way to enjoy the journey and not be so focused on the end results. Because I have this feeling it's going to be a while before I arrive!
Friday, April 25, 2008
Sunday, April 6, 2008
The Downside of Caring
Moment after moment this week, I felt myself assuming the identity of a nurse. Two early morning train rides before the bustle of the morning commute. It is a completely different world filled with other types of shift workers riding alongside me, often dressed very specifically for their jobs. Wearing my scrubs, filling all those big pockets with the gear for the day. And experiencing my day unfolding as I watch people move through the agony of their various diseases and complications – sharing a few of those moments with them, but fully aware that I am a champion and supporter, but really they must continue to do the hard work of living. I am merely a quiet observer as they live out this life they live.
I have felt this feeling of hopelessness often as a parent . . . knowing that I cannot and will not always be present when the teasing on the playground is occurring, when feelings are hurt, when they have climbed to far and they are just out of reach as they fall. It is this same feeling that I felt often at the hospital. People can only live for themselves. I can augment it, I can be there when I can, and I can try to make them comfortable, and I can use my knowledge to help solve problems. But the limiting reality is that I cannot be them! I am one of those people who has muttered the words, “why couldn’t this be me? I could handle this. I could make it through.” I guess this is what makes me a fighter. The will to get through whatever faces me, however I don’t recommend it for others, so much so I would rather take their place. Why? Because it is hard. Although my gut reaction is to want to take everything over, I must remember that really the journey through many of the trials are often the richest experiences of life. This week I was faced with the reality of having to let my patients, who I am caring for, live in the middle of what they have going on. Not to deny them this journey through illness. I have a role, in my new identity, that has the ability (should I choose to use it) to honor them by helping, relieving, comforting them through the journey. In a medical environment, where fixing things is often the desired outcome, I must remember the power of the journey. As a nurse I have a special ability to be with people along the journey, walking through the struggles and the successes, through the brokenness and the healing.
My struggle this week has been finding the balance of caring and alleviating problems with helping honor the role that sickness has in life and the natural progression of age and the slow decline of our bodies (and fast decline in the case of some of our patients). How do I honor these processes without submitting to their grim power?
I have felt this feeling of hopelessness often as a parent . . . knowing that I cannot and will not always be present when the teasing on the playground is occurring, when feelings are hurt, when they have climbed to far and they are just out of reach as they fall. It is this same feeling that I felt often at the hospital. People can only live for themselves. I can augment it, I can be there when I can, and I can try to make them comfortable, and I can use my knowledge to help solve problems. But the limiting reality is that I cannot be them! I am one of those people who has muttered the words, “why couldn’t this be me? I could handle this. I could make it through.” I guess this is what makes me a fighter. The will to get through whatever faces me, however I don’t recommend it for others, so much so I would rather take their place. Why? Because it is hard. Although my gut reaction is to want to take everything over, I must remember that really the journey through many of the trials are often the richest experiences of life. This week I was faced with the reality of having to let my patients, who I am caring for, live in the middle of what they have going on. Not to deny them this journey through illness. I have a role, in my new identity, that has the ability (should I choose to use it) to honor them by helping, relieving, comforting them through the journey. In a medical environment, where fixing things is often the desired outcome, I must remember the power of the journey. As a nurse I have a special ability to be with people along the journey, walking through the struggles and the successes, through the brokenness and the healing.
My struggle this week has been finding the balance of caring and alleviating problems with helping honor the role that sickness has in life and the natural progression of age and the slow decline of our bodies (and fast decline in the case of some of our patients). How do I honor these processes without submitting to their grim power?
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