I genuinely care about people and am quite interested in them. Patterns of socialization and family dynamics are fascinating. Sometimes I see myself in a sort of "priestly" position, sitting on the other side of the confessional where people reveal their deepest, darkest and most personal secrets as they seek atonement. I am humbled by others trust in me to share this information. There are of course confidentiality laws that I strictly abide by and at no point in this blog will actual names, or specific enough clinical cases that name names by proxy ever be used. I may from time to time ask patients if I may write about their particular encounter of course changing names. Some will not mind at all I imagine. Some might be offended imagine too. I haven't asked yet. But I will.
I see myself not as a nurse practitioner, but more a student of life. Though 39 in age, I have learned much from those I encounter on a daily basis. It is a recipe in progress. I see people at their best and worst. I have witnessed family members fight over money as they sit bedside with their "loved one" taking dying breaths. I have witnessed a wife whisper into her dying husbands ear -"you deserve this you bastard", I have placed a three year old onto the chest of her dying mother, because her father was too wrought with grief and lacked the strength to do so. I have also seen my fair share of "odds-beaters" people who should otherwise be dead but clinging to life with a strength that cannot be measured by pulse oximeters, or swan-ganz catheters. I have seen a pancreatic cancer spontaneously disappear, without explanation. I have seen motor vehicle accident victims with amputated arms and legs only to be reattached, and go onto walk out of the hospital, without the assistance of wheelchairs or crutches. This is not battlefield trauma grade stuff, though it is no less life altering. I part with these esperiences feeling enriched. I feel more whole, more human, yet I grow seemingly more puzzled. Sometimes numb. I genuinely feel some connection, be it almost always imexplicably to whosoever lives or dies in my hands. The bigger picture is that these are decisions I do not make. It is true that our technology has increased our life expectancy, and that as a result through medications, chemo, radiation, surgery, whatever, we stand better chances of living through certain clinical situations now as opposed to say thirty years ago. There is a bit of academia that goes into when to use this technology and how to use this technology, but why does it at times fail when it should succed and succeed when it should fail. Why is it attempted in the face of almost certain failure. Why is it not used when there is a clear clinical benefit. The is no genuine answer.
It seems like weeks since I've been on Facebook and it surely was the most extraordinary moment of this day to discover that you are called to write once again in your life. As I sit here weeping while trying to read, my mind also goes back to a time long gone when, after your Father died, I placed a journal in your hand and told you to write.
ReplyDeleteWith Alfred Lord Tennyson hanging above the head of your bunkbed, the echo of his words, "Arise, Go Forth and Conquer," were the words that greeted you each morning and in the echoes that followed, you did just that.
Life never gives us what we expect of it; it gives us only what we ask of it and tonight, after reading your words, (run on as some of them may be...you do take after me...), I will undoubtedly forget my role as punctuation police and reinforce the notion that is my mantra: It is not necessary to see where you are going. The path will reveal itself when it is ready to do so.
Love, Mom