I had a compassionate nurse's heart. As a patient, that's what one would hope for. A kind and loving person who sees and takes care of every need without having to be asked. When one doesn't feel well, it can be difficult to ferret out what one needs. That's when a good nurse can step in and be their intuitive, competent self, to just know what needs doing and do it. I was that nurse. Until I wasn't. Somewhere along the way my good nurse's heart got killed. Oh, I still went through the motions; I doubt any of my patients knew I was dying a slow death inside. But as less of my true giver-self lived, the harder it became to pretend. Though, I did such a good job of pretense I was the last to notice.
Looking back over my 35 years of nursing, it is a mingle of joy and regret. How could I have done it better? I think regarding my patients, I feel at peace - I did my best. But as a healer, how did I get it so wrong? How can a caregiver find balance and take care of themselves as much (if not more) then they take care of others? Is it even possible? Personally, I had to leave nursing to get healthy. But where does that leave the patient? Oh, I could go on long tyrants about our health care system and how it crushes the loving soul out of its front line workers. I watched and experienced the steady increase of that crush since I started working as a nurse in 1982. There used to be an era when a nurse could take the time and have management support to hold the hand of a patient and listen to them when they needed that sort of loving care, more than they needed any other kind of treatment in that moment. Those days are gone. What dies in a nurse who sees and ignores that magic moment simply because there is not enough time?
I'm still reluctant to reach out my hand and listen. I want that part of me back. How do I get that part of me back?
No comments:
Post a Comment