I have been back in the world of nursing for about 3 months. Working as a nurse feels like an comfortable, old, forgotten pair of shoes that I found in the bottom of my closet. At first they feel strange but soon enough, my toes seem to wiggle into the familiar spots and its like I have always been wearing them. I have a different perspective now that I am back from overseas. Things don't seem to be as big of a deal. A doctor gets mad? Eh...who cares.....a mad cow once jabbed me in the gut with his horns..... A lab report gets lost? Eh....look it up again on the state of the art super speedy computer that we have access to.
A few weeks ago, I became particularly attached to a patient whose condition was rapidly deteriorating. Photos of his four beautiful granddaughters lined the window seal. His wife walked in and out of the room. They stole secret glances and laughed at inside jokes the way only a married couple can. His son held his hand with desperate eyes. 'Come on Dad, stay with us a bit longer. Tell us about that trip to Vegas you took one more time'. My patient was so full of life then. He had a sparkle in his eye. He hadn't been allowed to eat in several days but the day I was his nurse, the doctors said he could. Eating is both a good and bad thing in this situation. They allowed him to eat because they couldn't do further surgery. He would soon be at the end of his journey, might as well allow him to enjoy a hamburger or two.
One of the other nurses had put some jelly beans at the nurses station for us to share that day. We had been joking all day long that we needed another dose of our "Xanax"...or our "Prozac". Medicinal therapy courtesy of Jelly Belly. I took a plastic medicine cup out of my bag on a whim. I scooped up some jelly beans and snuck into my patients room.
"I have your medicine for you"
He looked at me with a question. I shook the small container. When he realized they were jelly beans, his eyes sparkled.
"Can I really'? he asked
"Of course"
He gobbled them down in two seconds. "That was awesome".
His family perked up. "Does that mean we can bring him jelly beans"?
"Sure, why not".
When you only have a short time to live...."sure, why not" becomes the answer.
You enjoy those last sweet moments.
At the end of my day, I went to tell him goodbye. My eyes searched his eyes. I wasn't sure what I was trying to tell him but...he knew. He knew the end was coming. Nobody really wants a nurse who crumbles so I fought against balling my eyes out. In this world of political correctness, we have to be careful about human touch. But that didn't matter. I asked "can I give you a hug"?
His eyes sparkled again. Sure, why not.
I reach down and held his bony shoulders for a few seconds. It was awkward of course. I barely knew this man. BUT- this was some one's father, husband, brother. And this was a fellow brother about to see our Father face to face. So awkward hug it is.
Last week, I stepped into his room one last time. Just to say hello. The sparkle in his eyes was gone. He didn't recognize me. He didn't remember the jelly beans.
Yesterday, we stood in church and celebrated the Resurrection. I cried. I cried because of the hope. I cried because of the blessing. I cried because of those four beautiful granddaughters, I cried because one day God will wipe away all the tears.
You know, earlier, when I said that things are not as big of a deal since India? Well, in other ways, things are a BIGGER deal to me. Christ defeated death! He has the victory! Because He lives we can face tomorrow. And if I get a chance again, I will sneak my patients Jelly Belly's. Praise God for the resurrection.
A few weeks ago, I became particularly attached to a patient whose condition was rapidly deteriorating. Photos of his four beautiful granddaughters lined the window seal. His wife walked in and out of the room. They stole secret glances and laughed at inside jokes the way only a married couple can. His son held his hand with desperate eyes. 'Come on Dad, stay with us a bit longer. Tell us about that trip to Vegas you took one more time'. My patient was so full of life then. He had a sparkle in his eye. He hadn't been allowed to eat in several days but the day I was his nurse, the doctors said he could. Eating is both a good and bad thing in this situation. They allowed him to eat because they couldn't do further surgery. He would soon be at the end of his journey, might as well allow him to enjoy a hamburger or two.
One of the other nurses had put some jelly beans at the nurses station for us to share that day. We had been joking all day long that we needed another dose of our "Xanax"...or our "Prozac". Medicinal therapy courtesy of Jelly Belly. I took a plastic medicine cup out of my bag on a whim. I scooped up some jelly beans and snuck into my patients room.
"I have your medicine for you"
He looked at me with a question. I shook the small container. When he realized they were jelly beans, his eyes sparkled.
"Can I really'? he asked
"Of course"
He gobbled them down in two seconds. "That was awesome".
His family perked up. "Does that mean we can bring him jelly beans"?
"Sure, why not".
When you only have a short time to live...."sure, why not" becomes the answer.
You enjoy those last sweet moments.
At the end of my day, I went to tell him goodbye. My eyes searched his eyes. I wasn't sure what I was trying to tell him but...he knew. He knew the end was coming. Nobody really wants a nurse who crumbles so I fought against balling my eyes out. In this world of political correctness, we have to be careful about human touch. But that didn't matter. I asked "can I give you a hug"?
His eyes sparkled again. Sure, why not.
I reach down and held his bony shoulders for a few seconds. It was awkward of course. I barely knew this man. BUT- this was some one's father, husband, brother. And this was a fellow brother about to see our Father face to face. So awkward hug it is.
Last week, I stepped into his room one last time. Just to say hello. The sparkle in his eyes was gone. He didn't recognize me. He didn't remember the jelly beans.
Yesterday, we stood in church and celebrated the Resurrection. I cried. I cried because of the hope. I cried because of the blessing. I cried because of those four beautiful granddaughters, I cried because one day God will wipe away all the tears.
You know, earlier, when I said that things are not as big of a deal since India? Well, in other ways, things are a BIGGER deal to me. Christ defeated death! He has the victory! Because He lives we can face tomorrow. And if I get a chance again, I will sneak my patients Jelly Belly's. Praise God for the resurrection.
2 comments:
So true. you have a way with words. I'm always blessed! Thanks for sharing.
Amen. Crying now.
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