Dear Life,
You’ve been really confusing lately. Remember that one post a few months ago? Where I complained to you about my job and whether or not I actually liked what I was doing? We’ll skip over the boy part of the letter, because, well, we still need to work on that one.
But, here you are, going along, making me wonder if I made a mistake, and about a month later, I feel like I might be falling in love- and I think it might be for real and for the first time. After I get over the initial shock of the alarm clock going off at 5:15am and hitting the snooze for a half an hour, even on the days that I would have rather stayed curled up in my bed under the warm covers, I’m finding I actually enjoy my job. The panic switch doesn’t turn on as easily. The crazier days are usually just the faster ones. Twelve hour shifts feel normal. The people I work with are incredible and inspiring. And sometimes, as cliche as it may sound, you actually can make a difference in someone’s life. Sure, some days are harder than others- emotionally, mentally, or physically, and sometimes all of the above. But, my favorite days are the ones when I connect to a stranger. When someone actually reaches across my nurse-patient “I’m only here for a second of your life” barrier and teaches ME something. It’s not easy to do. I’ve gotten pretty good at going home and not thinking about work, unless it’s about what I forgot to do that day. But, when you do, I’ll remember you forever.
It’s taken me long enough, but I’m starting to believe the “RN” I sign so often at the end of my name. And most of the time, it’s the little things- like getting my patient with the twisted back to dangle at the edge of the bed for ten minutes so that her back stops hurting. Or wheeling my coworker’s patient to see the artificial heart he might have to get if he so chooses. Or sitting and listening when they’re anxious and probably a little bit crazy. Or, if they’re vented, sedated, and getting cannulated for ECMO and all you really can do is be her representative. It’s more than the meds, the turns Q2, and the continuous paranoia as you watch their blood pressure, oxygenation, and heart. It’s when you look at them at the end of your shift and they say “thank you” and you know you did something right.
I don’t know what happened, but it’s changing me. More outspoken, thicker skin, a face that is calm and collected. But, perhaps more importantly, I’m finding a deeper appreciation for humanity and a desire to do my part in fixing it.
Last night, while driving between a friend’s birthday festivities, I was listening to an astrologer (Dawn) on her talk radio show speak with a woman who was going into nursing. But, Dawn was wondering why she was doing that because she “saw no Virgo” in her. It’s starting to make sense.
So, thanks life. Sometimes you do a good job.
Love,
Lindsay
P.S. To my readers: I’m still accepting Truths or Dares! PLEASE! I beg you! Comment! Two people already have. I will send those two and the NEXT FIVE PEOPLE who comment with a Truth or Dare cookies. And I’m being serious. I will resort to bribes.