A young woman I have worked with professionally for many, many years died unexpectedly from a pre-existing medical condition. I am attending her funeral services today and I can hardly get ready for the tears. They surprise me a little so I want to talk about it and I decided to talk to you guys.
I’m a nurse. I have worked at a catastrophic care hospital for a long time…since the early 80s and in every capacity from staff nurse to clinical manager to external hospital liason. I’m not new to this. For the past 7 years I have run a program to work with folks who have catastrophic injury live independently in the community. A lot of what I do now is admin…finding resources, finding funding, convincing the legislature to use funds differently…essentially what I considered not much “real patient contact”…at least not considering my work history in this area. Kind of full circle from where I started a lot of years ago.
I watched this young woman go through all the stages of coming to grips with her spinal cord injury. She was injured about 15 years ago. A single mom at the time of her injury she has raised a beautiful daughter who graduates (with honors) from high school this year. I have been through a lot of crises with this woman; laughed with her, counseled her, had to “read her the riot-act” a couple of times early on, spent untold hours with her planning and getting to know her life, her dreams, her family. I knew her as a patient, a mom, a daughter, a friend. I am not ready to let go.
Sorry it this is rambling. Had to say it. And I’m generally not the one to be this emotional at work. I’ve always said about my work that I hope if I ever quit “feeling” that someone makes me quit if I don’t have the sense to myself. But I was not prepared for this. It surprises me.
Thanks for letting me unload. I feel better. A little more ready for the day. I need to go get ready now. Thanks for listening.
Sharron,
You sound like a nurse’s nurse. I’ve been there too.
Letting anyone behind the “Glass Wall” is distressing, but when its one of our own, and we lose them, it is totally devastating.
If I could, I’d put my arms around you and lay your head on my shoulder, I would, this second. I would say, “Cry, cry for her sake and for yours, and for mine, if, you please.”
Sometimes we are so alone…
Words are never enough, but they are all I have.
Peace to you and to her.
Mary
I’m home and reading the sweet notes posted. The funeral was in another city and I went with another nurse who was also very close. He and I spent most of the day remembering this phenomenal woman and through the course of it I answered my own question…she was no longer my patient; she was my friend and she gave me much more than I ever gave her.
She had a high level cord injury and her family at first did not want her to attempt to live alone. But she was determined…and optimistic…and she had a daughter that she wanted to mother. It never occurred to her to be dependent. She had that spark that those of us who work in physical rehab just wish we could bottle. I received calls and emails from doctors and nurses and therapists in our hospital wanting me to tell her family how often they used her as a peer example for other patients struggling with their desire for independence. And when I talked with her daughter today I saw the same sass and spunk shining through. No surprise there. It made me happy.
Thank you **Delores Reborn, Ruby, Yllaria, Ponder Stibbons, Khadaji, jsgoddess, Flamsterette_X and Kythereia ** for the hugs and good wishes. And picunurse , ahhh, thank you for understanding how much it hurts to let that boundary down…and what a surprise it is sometimes to realize it fell without your knowing it. Thanks, Mary, I appreciated your words.
I work in an emergency department in a smallish town and usually see the same faces in the waiting room. Lots of my patients get behind the “glass wall”, and it’s often devastating when one of them dies. Remember the good times, take solace from the care you provided over the years, don’t hold back the tears and accept my condolences. I’ll bet your a fantastic nurse.
“It’s good to open up your heart and let some hurt in … it proves that you are alive”…that is a paraphrase from something I can’t quite get my mind to retrieve tonight. I think it is McKuen, Listen to the Warm from very long ago but don’t quote me on it. On the same note I guess it is good to let that “glass wall” down sometimes too; maybe that is what keeps us here…doing what we do. Thank you for your thoughts, Dr_Paprika ,…I’ll try to live up to them.
