Tag Archives: healthcare

Loss and Grief

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Day 29 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge finds me not inspired. The jukebox in my head is not playing. No one has put in any coins. Perhaps I have to give it a swift kick in the side. Perhaps I am in mourning and silence is what I need. I find myself in a peculiar space. The fear and dread of my mother’s death was greater in my head than in reality.

Her final days were in the home she loved. Her pain came swift and short with all of us around her. The 2 not needed rescuers were respectful and kind as was the 2 policemen and coroner. There was no chaos but peace and respect. Such is the protocol for the fortunate leaving from home. We didn’t have to wait for a month like you have to for family doctor appointment, months for a cardiologist followup or 14 hours like in ER. They all came promptly with one phone call.

I was happy she was not in the hospital. It is not always a safe and caring space. The care is missing in our Healthcare. When you are sick, you don’t want to hear about staff shortages and certainly not about saving resources, especially when you are old. You want to be cared for. This is my grief talking. I know people did what they thought was their best. But I have to ventilate. Healthcare is not made up of just hospitals, clinics, doctors, nurses, technicians, receptions, etc., etc. It is all of us. We all have to care, to be kind. It’s also my mother talking through me. She’s big for kindness.

LIVE WISE

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Sheba was right on the money this morning. 6:05 am was when I felt her cold wet nose, followed by her little snort. It was still pitch black. But I love that part of the day when Preston Avenue was still asleep. No continuous ribbon of cars and only a few foot traffic.

I’m learning to leave my electronics asleep for awhile, indulging myself turning a few pages of written words. Once I start scrolling, one thing would lead to another. The minutes and then the hours would go by. My head and mind stirred and messed up with bad and/or useless information. Instead,  these mornings I am reading Stephen Jenkinson’s Die Wise, a Manifesto for Sanity and Soul. It is not an easy read. I can only do a few pages at a time. Now I might have to leave it for a few days.

He didn’t tell me anything that I did not know before. What it did was to take me right back to the workplace I have left 4 years ago. The scenes and talks were so familiar. I know he is coming from an authentic place. He has given a voice to those things and feelings that I’ve experienced and breathed for years but couldn’t articulate. I am grateful for that identification. It will help me ‘get over’ and heal from my ‘anxiety’ or ‘trauma’. The book is aptly named. It is a manifesto for sanity and soul. I believe that my anxiety was from the denial of all the feelings I’ve witnessed and experienced in the hallowed halls of the Hospital. But how else could I have carried on working without the denial?

These things were never talked about that I could remember. Yes, there was a Health Office but that was mostly where you report to after you’ve been off sick. It was like the Prinicpal’s Office. Most of the time I felt like a truant child, not deserving but abusing. Health care was for patients only. But then this was my experience. I don’t know about others. We don’t talk about it much. It was the same way with after retirement. I don’t hear about how others fare. I just hear about the travelling. That’s what I hear the most. Are you going to travel? I felt obligated to travel just because I am retired.

What happened to me was I fell apart. Or that’s what it felt like. Oh, I did some travelling. I was busy most if not all the time. I wasn’t just sitting around having a nervous breakdown.  I always took pride in being very functional, no matter what. No one probably knew I was having difficulties except maybe the person living with me. Sheba probably did. She had her own anxiety attacks. They were probably from me. She cushioned me by absorbing some of it. She is my best friend.

I am so lucky to have arrive in this space and time. I can now sit and stay with my feelings without jumping out of my skin. I can acknowledge the good, bad and the ugly. I can sit and read Die Wise – if only a few pages at a time.

NURSE, CARE FOR YOURSELF

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30503_392157895886_3064606_nSometimes things happen in a blink of an unthinking eye.  You wonder what led to this?  And you ponder and ponder until your head and heart hurt.  You still don’t under- stand.  You obsess about it, making yourself feel worse and worse and still you beat yourself about it.  At least it is what I do. I am humble enough now that I know I am not that much different than anybody else.  I am not better or worse.  I am just human, with emotions.

And so I cried a little at work yesterday.  I cried, not the big boo hoo hoo type with the sobs and crocodile tears, but just the tiny ones at the corners of your eyes, the break in my voice and runny nose.  It was very weird.  My nose never runs except when I’m eating soup and when I cry.

There really is not one thing that led to the moment of tears and frustration, but many little and not so little things over time.  I recognize it for the frustration and helplessness that I feel.  In that instant I see how I am harming myself with how I speak and do in the face of helplessness and powerlessness.  I feel anger inside and I say I do not care.  I take those habits home with me.  I behave and say the same thing to my partner in difficult situations.  Is that good for me?

Of course not!  I say good for me because I can only control what I do.  I ask not what work or anyone else can do for me.  I only ask of myself what can I do to make it better for me and for my work.  And so I remind myself of  Don Miguel Ruiz’s The Four Agreements again.

agreement 1

Be impeccable with your word – Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your word in the direction of truth and love.

agreement 2

Don’t take anything personally – Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.

agreement 3

Don’t make assumptions – Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness and drama. With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life.

agreement 4

Always do your best – Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgment, self-abuse and regret.

I remind myself of the teachings of Caroline Myss, HeatherAsh Amara, Tara Brach…..I remember The Power of Habit.  It is a tough road we human beings are on.  I want to feel empowered, enlightened.  I am empowered and awake.  I am not a victim.

I spent a restless, sleepless night though I prepared myself with a warm relaxing bath, took some medications to help me sleep.  I got up and made a cup of ginger tea but the only one that slept the night in our house was Sheba.  By about 3 am, I made the decision that I was not fit for work.  My shoulders ached from hugging myself, my throat sore.  Please don’t let it be Strep throat!  In my condition, I would not be an asset at work.  If I can’t be a solution, then I will not be a problem.  Since I am professionally licensed to assess others’ physical condition, I should use my skill to care for myself.

There’s five months before my big day, the big RETIREMENT.  I am hoping that I will leave nursing in a grand style, for it is a grand profession.  It is helping ourselves to become better human beings by service to others.  And we are richly rewarded spiritually and financially.  I would be very grateful for any help towards a graceful exit.  I am not a crazy Asian woman.  I do not need to act nor talk like one, for it is not who I am.

I will stop obsessing and crying now.  I am released from my negativity.  There is much out there in the world.  I will become an explorer of it.  Everything is interesting.  I just need to look closer.  It is good to alter my course.  I am retiring from nursing, not life.  My partner is leaving for Ghana next week for six weeks.  I will not go with him this time.  Sheba and I will tend the hearth at home.  We will miss him and ESCAPE3POINTS but space and time apart is not a bad thing and maybe I will learn to appreciate them both better.  Here’s his video of ESCAPE3POINTS:

WORDS FOR MYSELF

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It is August 3, day 2 post work syndrome.  I’m sitting here with my tea and the lyrics of Simon and Garfunkle’s Dangling Conversation are running through my head.  And the conversation does describe how I am feeling off and on, dangling on the edge of my consciousness.

The morning is grey.  I am feeling the greyness around me.  I suppose our profession can be a hazard for the soul if one is not careful.  I can and have gotten lost in thinking it is my responsibility in caring and saving, not only our patients but family, friends and coworkers.  You know what?  I am not all that powerful!  I have to tell myself many times I am just human.  It is okay to be flawed, to be selfish and weak as long as I’m not in that slot all the time.   Sometimes I am my worse enemy.

The sun is trying to rise above the clouds.  I feel its ray dispelling the greyness.  I am proud of myself.  I am not staying in my slot.  There’s a hazard in living alone, but it offers you the comfort and safety of just being.  You don’t have to try so hard.  You can stay down, safe in your cocoon.  When you live with someone, you have to try a little harder not to shed your greyness to them.  And so I try a little harder to rise above the grey.  I watch and learn from my partner on how he is and does.

The morning is progressing and I will have to put away my words for the day.  There’s the hard reality that goes into everyday living…things like dishes, laundry, cooking, paying bills.  But there is poetry in doing these things, too.  I have felt it at times when I put my mind there.  It feels like music….the times I’m baking bread, ironing.  The rhythm of my movement in kneading the dough and seeing the iron smoothing out the wrinkles eases the crinkles in my mind and body.

I think we put too much emphasis on salaried work.  All I hear these days is overtime, overtime.  Somewhere along the way I think we have lost our souls.  Patients are now clients, and we are healthcare providers. I remember once a doctor bellowing about the only professions he knew having clients are lawyers and prostitutes!

These are my thoughts only, my dangling words….no dangling judgements made.

It’s a still life water color,
Of a now late afternoon,
As the sun shines through the curtained lace
And shadows wash the room.
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference,
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs,
The borders of our lives.
And you read your Emily Dickinson,
And I my Robert Frost,
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we’ve lost.
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm,
Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopated time
Lost in the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs,
Are the borders of our lives.Yes, we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,
“Can analysis be worthwhile?”
“Is the theater really dead?”
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow,
I cannot feel your hand,
You’re a stranger now unto me
Lost in the dangling conversation.
And the superficial sighs,
In the borders of our lives.

FAR, FAR FROM THE MADDENING CROWD

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So here I sit, in the afternoon heat, wishing for days of yore.  I am wishing for those days of innocent girlhood when you can just pick up the phone and talk to a friend. There’s a price to pay with our modern techno gadgets.  You lose the skill for verbal, face-to-face or even phone conversations.  I feel myself going in that direction.  I hesitate to pick up the phone and dial.  Maybe they’re busy.  Maybe I will be a bother, Maybe, yes, maybe…..And so I put the phone down.  Maybe another day.  I am envious of people who are brave to be spontaneous….people who can pick up the phone and dial, people who can drop in for a visit because they are nearby and they like to spend time with you.  It is so easy to be lazy, to hide with our texting messages and our emails and our plans.  Don’t get me wrong.  I think these are wonderful time saving tools, but as with everything else…balance would be nice.

So here I sit instead, tapping out my words and sipping coffee on a hot summer afternoon.  I wipe the sweat from my face.  I can hear the traffic whoozing down Preston Avenue through my open windows.  Do you know that Staffing has already called me twice today?  Can you believe it?  I could not even make it for my own shift yesterday.  But what do they care.  I’m just a name and a number on their call list….someone at straight time.  Though I work in healthcare, I know that I am the one who has to care for myself.  Healthcare is too big an expanse to know whether a worker is sick and in trouble.  So I am at the top of the triage to sound the alarm…health worker down!  Time out!  No need to bring all my health or other dramas to work.  That’s not what I’m paid for. That is the sad truth.  Time to refill my coffee.

I muster enough energy for my hair appointment this morning.  Somehow I always end up in the barbershop chair when I’m feeling glum.  Maybe it is just false perception….coloured by my mood, I am sure.  My hairdresser is very beautiful, blonde and European.  Her name is Beata.  I have enough confidence in her now that I don’t worry about my mood affecting how the cut will turn out.  My haircut is always fabulous.  And she does not talk too much which is nice.  I talk enough in my work life that it is wonderful to be able to sit back in her chair, close my eyes and let her razor and scissors do their work.  It is fabulous not to make small talk.  I can close my eyes and escape from all the noises of life for a little while.

I open my eyes.  My hair is short, short….just the way I like it.  But I am still looking glum.  Well, it is hot and my face is a bit swollen and puffy.  How else can I look?  All good things in time.  I am a work in progress.