Pain

I always said I would never become one of those mean grumpy nurses. But now I understand them a bit better, I think. Not that I am becoming one, but at least I understand.
Because people lie and cheat and steal. And they hurt and call names and defraud and all that stuff. So nurses (and other people of course!) get hardened to it and become insensitive.
This week at work I had to be tough with a few people, and that's hard for me. I like to be compassionate and kind all the time, but sometimes that isn't the right approach.
Take, for example, my patient Robert. He went to take a bath with some epsom salts to ease the discomfort of heroin withdrawals. He'd been in the bath room for some time and I got this funny feeling about it. Maybe he was in there too long.
I went to the door and called his name. On the other side of the door I heard snoring.
I unlocked it with my master key and there he was, completely naked, sprawled out in the tub sawing logs.
"Robert! Wake up!" I said to him.
I threw a towel over him and shook him and he gradually came too.
"What are you doing?" I asked him. "You were fast asleep in the tub! You could've drowned!"
"Oh, it's not very deep." He said groggily. "And it feels really nice on my sore back."
"Get out of the tub." I told him. "I don't want you drowning in here."
"Aw come on, I'll be okay!"
"Get out!" I told him. "If you're sleepy enough to fall asleep in here, you can go to bed."
He got out. Later that day I had to kick someone out. And I had to tell him that there was nothing left I could do to help him unless he wanted to be helped. It was a hard thing to say. I wanted to put my arms around him and comfort his pain but I thought about something I learned in a nursing conference last week.
The number one factor that influences a person staying off drugs or alcohol permamently is whether or not they feel enough pain. Pain they've caused those they love; pain in themselves from their choices. And if health care professionals (and christians, and counsellors!) work too hard to eliminate people's pain and suffering, we may actually be short-circuiting the process that will set them free.
I'm sorry that you are hurting, I say to him. But it is that hurt that will continue to worsen, that will eventually make you change.
So maybe on the surface I will appear to be a mean grumpy nurse. But inside, I'm really kind and compassionate.

Beds of daisies

I had detailed plans for today. I had promised my sister Hannah that I would take her shopping and we both like schedules, so I helped her write a list of everything we were going to do. I got up early, read my bible, went for a run, showered, had some breakfast. Got everything ready to go and then headed out to the car.
Instead of 'old dependable' (my giant silver volvo), I was driving Robin's little green tercel for the weekend. I got Hannah into her seat and buckled and then tried to fit her wheelchair in the trunk. It wouldn't fit. It was simply too big for the space. I sweated and pushed and tried to turn it around and take it apart and I finally wrestled the whole thing in and managed to slam it shut. I got into the driver's seat, turned my key in the ignition, and nothing happened.
I remembered suddenly that a friend had told me the night before that my lights were on. Obviously I had drained the battery. There were no other available cars to jump-start it. The only live vehicle on the street was Mindy, Will's little blue car with only three wheels. But it was across the street. I got out of the car. Got Hannah out. Wrestled the wheelchair out of the trunk and reassembled it. I told her we would walk to the mall. It was already getting hot and I envisioned myself pushing her the kilometer and a half uphill.
I was starting towards the house to get my flip-flops when my Mom came out.
"Heather, there's a battery charger in the garage that might work."
Sure enough, there was a car starter kit with cables and everything. I hauled it out to the street and popped the hood. My neighbor Albert was out watering the lawn and he came over and helped me hook it up. After a few minutes the car started.
I wrestled the wheelchair back into the trunk and got Hannah re-buckled in and we drove off.
We went shopping and sat and had milkshakes together and talked and then I brought her back home and went off to meet my friend Anna. I had to pick something up in the mall and we walked around quickly and then she had a lab appointment and I sat in the waiting room. I had planned on meeting Miriam at a certain time but I watched the clock on the wall tick and felt I was wasting my time, I should be doing something. I had nothing to read, nothing to knit, nothing to do. Nothing but wait.
Sometimes life is like that; you rush and rush and then there is nothing to do but wait.
When I finally left I fought through afternoon traffic to get to Miriam's and suddenly there was no more rushing, no more wrestling with things that didn't fit. We went for a walk and bought popsicles and lay on the grass in the park and strung daisies together into chains. It was wonderful.
Sometimes life is like that. I have rushed and rushed for many years. I will be married by 16. Okay, 18. Okay, 21. I will be a doctor by 23. Okay, 25. Okay, 28. I will try to fit myself into something that doesn't fit, like the wheelchair in the trunk. I have tried to start things that wouldn't start, like the car. I have struggled through traffic and fretted while waiting in labs. I've had to let go of 'doing'. I'm afraid there is more of that lesson to be learned, unfortunately.
But why? All I really want deep inside is to lie in a bed of daisies, to talk about interesting things, to enjoy friendship, to listen to children playing in the background and know that everything is all right.
Today I thought about becoming Heather Mercer, sometime very soon. I'm hardly getting used to being Heather Davies, it seems. Perhaps it takes a lifetime to get acquainted with oneself, to figure out what you really want.
I heard Hannah crying in bed just now and I went up to see her and I asked her why she was crying. After a long while I finally understood what she was trying to say between tears.
"You're going."
Yes, I am. But it's okay. I'm still me, and I'll be back to visit. I gave her a kleenex and as she fell asleep I thought about the adventures I've been on and the ones still to come and how sometimes the adventure is just seeing for the first time what has been in front of me all along.

New things

I recently did several things I haven't done before that had not quite the outcomes I was expecting.
1. Robin and I bought a red truck for a pretty good deal. Plus it comes with winter tires and a canopy, so we can go winter camping in it, or if times get tight, we can live in it year around. Unfortunately the red truck broke down. Fortunately Robin and his friend Rick fixed it today.
2. I bought a rocking chair at a garage sale and Marlene gave me an old stool and I decided to sand them down and paint them red and white. Unfortunately the paint cost me double what the chair cost. Fortunately I have lots left over to paint other things.
3. I decided to make a type of strawberry trifle/pudding the other day. Unfortunately it looked like baby puke. Fortunately it still tasted very delicious.
4. I spent an afternoon and evening with my future in-laws. There is nothing unfortunate to say here: despite all the stupid movies about the in-laws from hell, all of mine are wonderful people and they like me and are happy I'm marrying their son.
5. In an effort to have our girl's bible study in a more interesting location, I led us all to the beach on thursday night, and straight into clouds of mosquitoes. We quickly relocated to a grassy hill which turned out to be some kind of ant-hill. Fortunately the ant hill did not stop us from having a good bible study.
6. Someone called me on my cellphone in the middle of the night this week. I tried to answer the phone but the display light wouldn't come on. Finally I got tired of trying to punch the buttons in the dark and I sat up and turned on my light. Unfortunately I wasn't holding anything in my hand; I had dreamt the whole thing.
7. I didn't have any work scheduled this week or next week. Perhaps something will turn up; I don't know. But it's okay. I have lots of interesting things to do, like work in my garden and paint my furniture and cook.