2014

“To be fully alive, fully awake, and fully human… One must continually be thrown out of the nest” -Pema Chodron

 

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2014,

I’m getting ready to say goodbye to you. I’ve been thinking for a few days about what to say, how to say it.

My first thoughts are that you were so damned difficult.   You broke my heart, messed up my mojo, and turned my life upside down.

Second thought: YOU….did none of that.

It was me that did it to myself.  On my own accord,  I left my job of 14 years.  I left my safe, familiar, secure, and predictable life as a nurse in the Emergency Department in a Level 1 Trauma Center.

I loved working in Emergency Medicine with all my heart.  I love being the calm in the storm.  I loved being steady in chaos. I loved helping humans in crises. I loved the variety.  I loved the challenge. I loved the teamwork, I loved the camaraderie.  I had found my niche, and my personal ‘style’.   My intuitive knowing was strong.  I was a fierce patient advocate with a strong voice.    In many ways, I felt I was an expert in my field.

I had seen burn out happen to many of my peers throughout my years. Confidently, I had always sworn that I would leave “immediately” when it began to happen to me.  Ah, it was so, so easy to sit on one side of the fence and prophesize.

The beginning of The End for me began the night I was at work and one of my friends-who-are-family, presented to ‘my’ trauma room with aortic dissection.. He was gone when he arrived.  I’ve witnessed this hundreds of times in my career…it’s different when  you love the patient and that individual is an integral part of your day to day life.    My worlds collided that night; the implications of that loss carry-on into today.

Stress evolved into Compromise creating Resentment which morphed into Ego and birthed Antagonism.  A lot of  abstract words that describe my descent precisely.

All of it turned me into somebody that I totally did not love or respect.  Imagine thinking, feeling, believing in oneself, and one day, realizing a big chunk of what you thought about yourself…wasn’t true?

It took me a couple of years to even recognize that I was officially in the Burn Out Corral.  Two years.  In that time, my confusion, my distress and my struggle was inherently spewed onto my colleagues.   I’d like to think ‘not continuously’…but I think it’s safest to assume it so.

2014, you taught me Humility.

I was hurt and deeply surprised at those that, turned out, really didn’t like me very much.    I love them, they didn’t love me.

Most of those individuals, were victims of the whirling dervish that was my descent into burn out.  My confusion and pain had spewed onto them.  I have had the pleasure of being associated with brilliance throughout my life and these folks weren’t gonna keep their hand on a burning arrow.  No Way.   That is precisely what I had become and I must be fully accountable.  I love many people that do not reciprocate that Love.   Hate is a very heavy weight, I pray their hearts can soften as Hate has a subtle way of eating an individual alive

2014, you brought me Courage.

It took me a few months to fully realize that I had actually left the ER.   This was followed by a few more months of a deep, deep, loss of identity.   Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce: My Ego

Yes,  I loved being a Savior. There it is.  My Ego Loves Being A Savior.  I loved introducing myself as “An Emergency Room Nurse”, and just letting that hang in the air…Boom.  That made me Important, it garnered me Affection, Friendship, Camaraderie and Love.   Writing these words nauseates me.

2014, you taught me a little more about Love.

You revealed to me the people who truly DO care about me – those that would love me if I worked at McDonald’s.   I continue to be humbled by their ever lasting, non-judgmental Love. When I focus on my blessings, these individuals are at the top, the middle and the end of my list.  They are those that I think of daily with deep gratitude for having the fortitude and courage to accept me as less than perfect.   Further, you’ve brought to me new, fresh faces full of Love – I can see them clearly.

2014, you taught me Compassion for myself.

This has been the hardest and I will need more help with this in years to come.  However, I fully realize that if I can not be compassionate with my Self first and foremost…..any “compassion” I hand out to others…..is really just that Savior Ego Candy Crap that’s designed to make you love me…..Crack.  Emotional Crack.   I want to ditch that schtick….so, Self Compassion it is.   Warning:  It’s a really tough trick to master…but, I’m catching glimpses of it.

2014, you gave me Yoga, Spirit and Meditation.

No words.  Only Gratitude and Devotion.

2014, you gave me the opportunity to Wake Up to My Self.

All  methods of self-medicating  have miraculously left my physical temple.    Habits of clean eating and exercise prevail.  The respect for my body exceeds anything I’ve ever been able to achieve before.

2014, you have been filled with personal suffering.

There has been a great and soulful Destruction  There is a subsequent tender and loving Reconstruction.   Yes, there has been deep Loss with a subtle, but profound Gain.

2014,

With all my heart and soul,

I Thank you.

Rear View Mirror

Time has a way of erasing Pain and Bitterness.  In the end, all that will matter is Love.

I started looking at you through the Rear View Mirror awhile  ago.

Actually, I couldn’t see very well because my eyes were glassy and nearly always filled with tears.    I knew that I needed to leave you.   For me, knowing it was “Time”  always came with the realization that I simply could not come up with one good reason to stay.

Leaving….. became the only thing to do.    I had tried everything else in my J.O. repertoire – Nothing stuck.

I often don’t get things at first light.    It took me awhile to realize this.   While I’m laying down The Ugly,…I may as well tell you this:   Had you begged me to stay,  I woulda stayed.

You didn’t  beg me to stay.  You were just as Sad as I was… that it was over.   Which meant:

It.  Was. Over.   Over and Out.

I already feel sorry about any bloody negativity that I threw into the mix with us….you and me.   Honestly, given the depth of my love for you….. I would have imagined My Exit to have had dragging, kicking,  and screaming involved in it.     I think I loved – love – you that much.

I miss you.    I am blessedly grateful to not be with you.

I read the news today.   About the girl who suddenly, and tragically: Died.    Her smiling face is all over my Facebook page, on my kitchen table and my indulgent TV news watching.

Except Today:

Today, I do not posses the cerebral and psychic  information of what color her underwear was… what jewelry she was wearing……how loudly her mother/brother/sister screamed…or what her last sounds were after she collapsed from a pulmonary embolism in front of her friends and family.   I am eternally grateful that I wasn’t with You that day.    You had exactly the perfect nurse warriors fighting for you that day.

I am on the Outside of you now.

Perspective and Hindsight have been paying me regular visits!   Each time I am gifted with their presence, I get a little lighter, get a little happier inside and I feel a little more free.   Forward visions are very bright, joyous….. filled with color.    I have definite, plausible,  palpable…..moments of excitement.

My Soul grew.

All that Artist’s Way,  Namastin’, Keroauc-dreaming finally took a hold…..and asked me to Take A Leap.   I really started something when I started praying and meditating.    In utter bluntology:   I needed to make this God thing….my Own.    Heck, I’d been shopping in the God mall for nearly 30 odd years.   I love love love browsing around in the meta physical…. However, I had commitment issues – and never could seem to find the time to stay maintain a spiritual practice.   I started dubbin’ around about 5 years ago   (curiously, on the heels of another lost love)   and haven’t stopped.

I laugh now,  at the memory of a day with You    I was telling a co-worker that I was checking out Chanting.   How she and I  chuckled as I gave an imitation of me….chanting.    Better watch where you put your energy, huh?     The chanting didn’t stick, however those days of spiritual experimentation ultimately lead to me leaving….. You.

The more time and energy I gave to Me……. being alone,  sitting alone, writing, painting, reading, staring at the flippin wall,  the ceiling, the  floor or window…  the more I grew to really love being with Me.

All of it added up.   It has me realizing that I want to be with my Tribe.  I want to be surrounded by enthusiastic, active, artistic, creative and vibrant people who celebrate Life and Love.   I want to rejoice in the incredible redness of a tomato, the blue sky, the snow, and the sun.   I want to delight in the softness of a baby’s skin; the beauty of an old woman’s wrinkles.  I want to take that Delight and  scream it from the mountaintops – reminding people that all those things exist – especially for those days when there is no sunlight in their lives.

I want to spend the rest of my days in Service.   I will always Serve.   Always.   That is my nature, that is my purpose for Everything.   Service.    I paint to honor Beauty.   I offer these very words to serve those that lack them.    I will continue to access my truth,  and speak it…..for those that can not.

I could not do that when I was with you.   I outgrew you.   The more certain I became in my convictions, the more I knew that we were coming to the end.

I have no bitterness towards you.   I have overwhelming love sometimes that currently is masquerading as Sadness -in missing you.    I have amazing glimpses of future that present themselves to me on a daily basis…..gently and lovingly pull me away from you.

The mask of Sadness fades away..  I am certain, he will return from time to time.    Time will be the very entity that will deliver the message:   Creativity  will pull me forward.

We had a great run baby, you and me.  I can still smell your distinctive scent, hear your voice, see ‘that look’……oh, you pull at my heartstrings.

I smile and shake my head slowly back and forth.   Oh, my beautiful, wonderful you.

Turning,  I Keep my eyes on the road, and my hands upon the wheel.

Forward.

 

Walking With Wig

She wore a brown wig over her long, but sparse, wispy hair.  The wig didn’t stay on well and she was constantly adjusting it.  No matter how many times she moved it forward, or pushed it up out of her eyes, her natural wiry white hair flowed out underneath and to the sides.  For appearance sake, it resembled a hat, more than a wig.

Midway through her 80th decade, this woman presented in my professional landscape like many others – strapped on a stretcher.  As an ER nurse, I am desensitized to visual extremes.  While, at the same time, I am tuned into visual nuance with an intensity that is difficult to match.  My new patient, with her tilted muddy brown wig, attracted me from the onset.

With her appearance, came a degree of judgement of what I would encounter when I entered the room.  I fully expected to engage with this individual, who was trapped in the confines of Alzheimer’s disease, on the outer levels of rational.

She did not know what state she was in, nor did she know why she was in the emergency room.  Dressed in a red flannel shirt, polyester stretchy pants with two different white sneakers on the appropriate feet, she laid on her bed with her eyes closed.

From the first question I asked her, down to my very last exchange with her, the response was unpredictable.  Yet, regardless of WHAT she said, every single word she spoke was with clarity and great intent and often with an accompanying wig adjustment.  Her intellect, obviously crafted throughout a lifetime, was evident in her vocabulary.

Every time I asked her how she was, I received a different answer.   I soon found myself drawn to  her, simply to see what she’d say.

“How do you THINK I am, laying in this uncomfortable bed!”  She denied any distress whatsoever; aside from being in the emergency department that is.  She had absolutely no complaints.  She was sent to the ER from the Alzheimer’s unit of a local nursing home because: “she had fallen while walking in the hallway”.  Nursing homes have a responsibility to ensure –  ENSURE – that their residents are kept healthy. Any abhorrent event requires them to send the resident to the ER to rule out broken ribs, pneumonia, or a urinary tract infection.  All these diagnosis are arrived at via multiple tests, sometimes repeatedly, thus resulting in lengthy stays.

Wig vacillated between cooperation and irritation.  She was able to get up out of the bed and walk.  Sharp-tongued, she admonished me continually throughout the day, starting with  “I can get up by myself!”.  Hunched over,with an odd combination of movements and holding onto a walker, Wig took off down the hall.  Nearly every bone in her body was twisted, bent, or locked into place through obvious joint surgeries.  Yet her biggest inhibitor was her Wig which moved about with every jerky step this fast moving woman could make.

Oh, and by the way, she was a lifelong nurse.

I discovered I held a beautiful gem in my hands with each and every prickly interaction.  Wig spoke with clarity and accuracy (confirmed by nursing home) of her nursing career, where she trained and her speciality.  She looked me dead in the eye and declined the catheterization of her bladder to obtain a sterile urine sample stating “Why in the world would you want me to do THAT, when I can just clean my boo with wipes”….and she was 100% correct.  Catheterization is reserved for those who are physically inhibited to clean themselves.  Wig  got up out of the bed and provided crystal clear sparkling urine.

Yet, she didn’t remember asking for the tea I’d brought her, she didn’t know what state she was in, she liked me, she didn’t like me.   As afternoon turned into evening, she became more agitated and wanted to walk continually which is problematic in a busy ER.  I had two options: “force” her to stay in her room which had a good chance of irritating my passionate Wig to the point of restraint albeit physical or chemical, or I could ‘let her be”.  This is when I discovered that Wig preferred rolling chairs to walkers.  Indeed, she could get around even faster.  Spastic, faster and scary, it was during these Walks with Wig, that she spoke about her nursing career with clarity and confirmed accuracy.  She was also very sweet and pleasant.

She believed me when I asked her to help me “fold laundry” (to keep her occupied and safe while I did paperwork).  “I don’t know why I’m helping you when I’ve got a household of my own to keep” as she angrily, but, meticulously, folded  the pile of socks from our geriatric resource bin.

At one point, I gently touched Wig’s wig to help her adjust it.  She slapped my hand away and said “I don’t care if my hair shows, I’m OLD for crying out loud”  Wig went onto say she’d wore a wig for 15 years, had ‘at least’ 10 or 20 of them and I could get my own wig anywhere.  During this willing  and open wig-exchange, her irritation at my Wig-norance was self-evident.

“For god’s sake, HOW in the world did you get to be 53 and NOT know about wigs?”

Wig left our ER with a clean bill of health.  She was in a good mood when the ambulance came to pick her up and I actually never said good-bye to her as I was caring for my other patients.  It’s apparent to me I’ve no intent of letting Wig go.

Wig was a gift.  Wig IS a gift, and Wig is very very challenging as Wig doesn’t care one whit about what anyone thinks of her.

I am a nurse; I am also an artist, drawn to fresh perspective, or as some would say, altered realities. Abstract thinking is a skill I hone.   I also watched my beloved grandmother succumb to Alzheimer’s disease.  So, it is not a stretch to imagine my future aligning with Wig.   Further, to effectively practice the Art of Nursing, one MUST walk in another one’s shoes.

I saw Wig as a visual gem: mismatched, crooked, wrinkled, vacant and emotionally precise.  Although she is not connected to the here and now in any dependable way, it is clear that Wig still contributes to this world: opening eyes, broadening smiles, evoking curiosity, disproving judgments and trying patience.   The beauty of nursing is that, from time to time, it gives back to us in spades.

I received way more from Wig than I gave her and she could care less WHAT I gave her  (which, by the way, is a requirement of Sainthood). Among the many enlightments I received, I treasure most, now knowing the underestimated value of  a decent and varied wig collection.

“They even ‘got em at the grocery store!”