Circle of Life
Oct. 12th, 2012 09:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
midnightsjaneI walked out of ICU the other day on my way to the cafeteria. I left a room in which a woman had just died after a long illness, her husband standing beside her bed, looking so lost, my heart ached for him. I went down the hallway, and passed a woman on an OR stretcher, her newborn baby crying loudly in her arms, and the OB team trailing behind with the bassinette. I thought, there it is, the circle of life. One is born, one dies, and in between we all live our lives as best we can. It felt strangely fitting, somehow.
One of the things about ICU is that it tends to bring out the strengths and the weaknesses of our human condition. When someone you know is fighting for life, it kind of narrows your focus, and it's a sort of crucible for the emotional state of the family members involved. We as nurses are there on the periphery, and sometimes it can be hard not to get caught up in all the drama. Some families fall apart, and some pull together and lend each other strength; it's sometimes a tossup, and sometimes one person becomes the anchor for everyone else. We try to be there for the families as well as our patients, and every day I am grateful for our amazing Social Workers, and the Pastoral Care worker who take on so much of the support the families require, leaving the nurses more able to focus on the patient. We have a great team.
On the topic of strength and love, I have a very heartwarming story to share:
there is a woman in our ICU who has been ill with a disease similar to multiple sclerosis; she's had a very long, slow recovery, and there were times we were sure she wouldn't make it. Throughout her stay, her husband has been there every single day, sitting by her bed, talking to her, helping with her care, and being a tower of strength. He's a lovely man, always ready with a cheerful smile, and he remembers every nurse who has cared for his wife; he has come up to me in the hallway on days when I'm not looking after her to ask me how I am, and to give me an update on her progress. He told one of my colleagues that they met and married quite young, and that their life wasn't always easy; he was a businessman in China, and almost lost his business for some reason or other. He said his wife stood by him, and never gave up on him; she raised their children, and came with him to a new country to make a new life for them all. He said he told her when they married that she might never live in a mansion, but she would always have a roof over her head. Now she needs him, and it's his turn to be there for her, whatever it takes. He's willing to do anything to get her home again. The love in his eyes when he looks at her is so obvious, it makes me a bit teary. It's a powerful thing, love.
Anyway, if you were to ask me why I have managed to work in ICU all these years without burning out, I would say that people and stories like this keep me there. There are many sad and tragic stories too, but it's the ones who make me feel like there's hope that I remember best.
In other news, I've been busy, working, doing the stuff of living, etc. It rained today for pretty much the first time in 3 months. The horses were all very frisky. I cleaned stalls, and wished that I had remembered my thick socks so I could wear my rubber boots..they're a size too big, and without thick socks they tend to fall off. I was very damp by the end of the day, from hair to toes. It felt good to come home and put on my cozy pjs.
I haven't been on my computer too much this week; I have tendinitis in my right shoulder, and I find that typing for too long really hurts. Ouch. Have to go put some ice on it now, and maybe take some more ibuprofen. Darn shoulder.
One of the things about ICU is that it tends to bring out the strengths and the weaknesses of our human condition. When someone you know is fighting for life, it kind of narrows your focus, and it's a sort of crucible for the emotional state of the family members involved. We as nurses are there on the periphery, and sometimes it can be hard not to get caught up in all the drama. Some families fall apart, and some pull together and lend each other strength; it's sometimes a tossup, and sometimes one person becomes the anchor for everyone else. We try to be there for the families as well as our patients, and every day I am grateful for our amazing Social Workers, and the Pastoral Care worker who take on so much of the support the families require, leaving the nurses more able to focus on the patient. We have a great team.
On the topic of strength and love, I have a very heartwarming story to share:
there is a woman in our ICU who has been ill with a disease similar to multiple sclerosis; she's had a very long, slow recovery, and there were times we were sure she wouldn't make it. Throughout her stay, her husband has been there every single day, sitting by her bed, talking to her, helping with her care, and being a tower of strength. He's a lovely man, always ready with a cheerful smile, and he remembers every nurse who has cared for his wife; he has come up to me in the hallway on days when I'm not looking after her to ask me how I am, and to give me an update on her progress. He told one of my colleagues that they met and married quite young, and that their life wasn't always easy; he was a businessman in China, and almost lost his business for some reason or other. He said his wife stood by him, and never gave up on him; she raised their children, and came with him to a new country to make a new life for them all. He said he told her when they married that she might never live in a mansion, but she would always have a roof over her head. Now she needs him, and it's his turn to be there for her, whatever it takes. He's willing to do anything to get her home again. The love in his eyes when he looks at her is so obvious, it makes me a bit teary. It's a powerful thing, love.
Anyway, if you were to ask me why I have managed to work in ICU all these years without burning out, I would say that people and stories like this keep me there. There are many sad and tragic stories too, but it's the ones who make me feel like there's hope that I remember best.
In other news, I've been busy, working, doing the stuff of living, etc. It rained today for pretty much the first time in 3 months. The horses were all very frisky. I cleaned stalls, and wished that I had remembered my thick socks so I could wear my rubber boots..they're a size too big, and without thick socks they tend to fall off. I was very damp by the end of the day, from hair to toes. It felt good to come home and put on my cozy pjs.
I haven't been on my computer too much this week; I have tendinitis in my right shoulder, and I find that typing for too long really hurts. Ouch. Have to go put some ice on it now, and maybe take some more ibuprofen. Darn shoulder.
