I can't believe it's been so long since I was here. Life has a way of moving fast and leaving you behind sometimes. So much has happened and I was so happy to read through some of my old posts today and see who I was and what I thought was happening. It's all been quite different than I expected.
I think I had visions of being able to keep up with my writing while my dad suffered from colon cancer and while I was starting nursing school. It didn't work out that way.
Yesterday was the 8th anniversary of Steve's death and I found myself reflecting a lot. It made me think of how much I loved coming here and sorting out the mess in my head. March 7th will be the one year anniversary of my dad's passing. I miss him so much. I hear his laugh in my mind sometimes and I ache to hear it in real life.
Nursing school is fascinating and so much more than I imagined. It's really scary and difficult sometimes, but everyday I am reminded of how precious life is and it's such a gift to think that way. I have done so many things - unimaginable things, and I've gained so much confidence in who I am and what I am meant to be doing. One of the things I have been reflecting on is my expectations and how different reality is. It doesn't matter what I am doing day to day, the way I imagine it in my head is nothing like the way it turns out.
I wrote a book once. In it one of the main characters died. I imagined what it would be like from movies I had seen and I wrote it as honestly as I could. I wondered what it would be like to see someone die for real. I wondered, going into nursing, who would be my first. Turned out my first was my dad. It was so much different than I had imagined.
When he was diagnosed with cancer I wrote a blog about how he had gone from being a gale force wind to only a whisper through his illness. Death is much like that only the whisper disappears too. I can now somewhat see the comparison to a candle flame going out. Only his life was more like a bonfire. People gathered around laughing all the time, partying and enjoying the flames as they rose higher and higher.
In those last moments I was amazed how he found the words and energy to say goodbye to each of us. The way he looked at me and thanked me is something I will treasure forever. His last moments were human, nothing can compare.
As I go through my clinicals in different hospitals with different nurses, one thing that stands out is the "job" part. So many of the nurses I have met have done this for so long they are no longer amazed. They can see their job, what they need to accomplish but I fear they have lost the empathy of the human experience that reminds us that every part of being sick touches the very deepest core of our being. We are vulnerable. We are scared. And we need help. I am so blessed to be able to offer that help. To touch peoples lives.
I can still see through my excitement of watching a persons chest be cut open in an emergency clam shell thoracotomy, that a person - a human being lies beneath all of the people trying to "work". Someone's son, father, brother, husband - whether we save him or not, his life and ours will have forever touched even for the briefest moment. And I either helped or I didn't and then the moment has passed and I am unable to go back to change it.
Nurses are amazing people. It is an amazing job. The group I am studying with are all so diverse and interesting. They are incredibly smart and I am so lucky to be learning from each of them. I know they will all touch a million lives and make a huge difference with the people they help. This has been an unforgettable ride and I have stopped trying to imagine what the day will bring. I am focused instead on being present in anticipation of things I could never conceive.
