Love in Vain

I heard the term to “love in vain” the other day and it got me to thinking…is it possible to love in vain? Is any love really in vain? Then I went to the all knowing source, wikianswers and asked “them” what it meant. Here it is: “to love in vain means that you get nothing in return for your love. It means that you gave your heart to someone who did not care to have it.”*  I don’t know why but I found this answer funny. It completely simplifies what can be quite a painful experience. I can just picture someone returning a heart with a “no, thanks.”

I don’t buy it though. Even if the other person did not care to have the heart, I don’t think it is in vain. What if the one who is loving learned something from the experience? Does that make it in vain? What if they benefited from pouring their love on the lovee? I beg to differ wikianswers, I am not sure love can be in vain.

I had a patient last week who was a pretty tough lady. She was on our unit for a stroke but she had A LOT of other issues too – many of them psych issues. Turns out all those psych meds put her at a higher risk of a stroke but, for her, coming off the meds wasn’t an option she would consider. I looked into her history a bit and she had a hard life –really hard. From some of her other physical issues, it didn’t appear that she found much reason to get out of bed. Oh, and did I mention, she was roughly my age? I like to think of myself as not quite midlife. Despite some bad heart genes, I plan to live a long, full life. This patient, judging from her condition, was most likely past her mid-life. 

She did have a significant other who spent quite a bit of time with her. He seemed a bit disengaged working/playing on his computer much of the time. I think he was her primary caregiver. At first I thought the relationship seemed pretty messed up and then I realized, who am I to judge what a relationship should look like?  After spending a few nights with her, I started to think that maybe this system worked for them. Even though she didn’t seem to be able to provide much in return, and maybe she didn’t even care to have his heart – although my hunch is that she did – I think caring and loving her, in his own way, gave him a purpose. His love wasn’t in vain.

I think about my past crushes and loves where the boy did not care to have my heart. As painful and baffling as these experiences may have seemed to a very young and naive me, I know I learned something each time. I learned that I could survive a broken heart and that maybe I should have a little more discretion in choosing who to give that heart of mine too. How can this be in vain?

I think of the patients who struggle with dementia. I imagine for their caregivers there are times where it must seem like the loved one, in the midst of their  confusion, does not wish to have their heart. Does that mean they stop loving? Is their love in vain? These are some of the most selfless people I have seen. They KEEP loving even when it is hard. Really hard. So, wikianswers, I think we should change the definition for “to love in vain” to “it isn’t possible.”

*As the daughter of an English teacher I am obliged to give credit where credit is due and here is the link to wikianswers definition: http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_does_it_mean_to_love_in_vain

Playtime

I couldn’t do anything right for my curmudgeonny 80+ year old patient this week. He had been my patient during an earlier stay a few weeks back. Couldn’t do anything right for him either visit. He was a grumpy man. Really grumpy but I found him endearing in a funny sort of way. I like a good challenge and after a few nights together I think he might even have liked me – not that he would have ever admitted it. 

I don’t want to get grumpy as I age. I have my moments now but I like to think, in general, I am not too cantankerous. I think the key might be coffee and not taking myself too seriously. I am too serious most of the time. I am worried about raising my kids to be good upstanding citizens, worried about being a good friend, wife, nurse and daughter. All this fretting can really get overwhelming – so, I am going to work harder at playing.

Yesterday my kids couldn’t figure out anything to do after school – which is funny if you look in the garage and see all the bikes, scooters, balls and other things to do. I looked at Audrey’s electric razor scooter that she HAD to have for Christmas and now hardly ever rides (although she did like it enough to name it Ruby) and I jumped on. She was yelling after me to get off because I was “too fat and would break it.” After getting back from an awesome ride up and down the street with an enormous grin on my face, I told her it was more polite to say “over the weight limit.” I knew a brief ride on her scooter wasn’t going to do damage and, quite frankly, it raised my spirits tremendously.

This past weekend we went to Young Life’s Creekside camp in Antelope, Oregon. It is a camp designed for middle-schoolers. It was so much fun – BECAUSE it was designed for middle-schoolers. Kids know how to have fun so much more than adults. Just look at these slides:

I spent the weekend swimming, mini golfing and just playing. It was awesome. I went down this really dark, really fast tube slide and couldn’t help but giggle the entire way down.

I think this need for play is why I am drawn to mud runs at the moment. Running through obstacles in the mud is pretty hard to beat. It’s hard to take yourself seriously when you are covered in mud. I am going to work on my fun quotient. All the troubles of the world seem just a bit more manageable after play time.

Girl Power

A few years back when my kids were smaller, I was jogging with them both in the stroller and I had my dog in tow. I am sure I was sweating profusely and moving very slowly. A woman in a very large truck drove by, leaned out her window and yelled “Girls really can do it all.” I gave her a little girl power fist pump in the air with the last bit of energy I had and we had a moment of girl solidarity.  I have similar moments when I am trying to run up this very high hill in Sherwood. When I think I cannot put one more foot forward, I turn my iTunes to Beyoncé and listen to a little “Girls Run the World.” Beyoncé and I, we have a little girl solidarity moment as I get to the top where the view is truly spectacular.

As a disclaimer, I don’t really believe that girls, on their own, rule the world. I am fortunate enough to have Michael as well as some great guy friends who are supportive and encouraging. But today, in honor of Mother’s Day, I pay tribute to the ladies.

I have always said that it takes a village to raise my children. This is still the case. This journey is HARD. Usually it is good hard, but hard nonetheless. And let’s get one thing straight – it is hard whether you are a working momma or a stay at home momma. I have never understood that debate. I have been both and both are challenging – for different reasons. So, let’s put that issue to rest and agree that this is one tough gig. I think the only way to make motherhood easier is to decide not to care about character, safety, manners, rules, friends, and morals. I imagine then it would be easier for a short bit but after a few years you probably would have some delinquents on your hands which might be a whole different problem. 

I am lucky enough to have some pretty awesome, strong, amazing women in my life who hold me up and walk with me on this journey. Birthing these two remarkable, crazy beings was way easier than raising them. Every phase and age offer new, exciting and terrifying challenges. I don’t know what I am doing more than half the time. That’s pretty scary. Often at work I feel like I am unsure what I am doing but not HALF the time. If I felt like that half the time, I am quite certain most of my patient’s wouldn’t make it out those doors.

I mess up a lot. I say the wrong thing. I giggle when I am supposed to be disciplining. I yell. I get some right and a lot wrong. BUT I am fortunate enough to have friends who encourage me. They reassure me that their kid has picked his nose during a music concert too or shouted out in class or hurt another kid’s feelings. They tell me I will be okay and to keep going. I had a friend cry when I told her about Audrey’s struggles at school. Cry for my heart and Audrey’s heart. Now, that is a friend who is walking through it with you. I am one lucky duck to have a whole stinkin’ choir of Beyoncés telling me I can make it up that seemingly impossible hill.

You know the amazing thing? Not all these women in my life are mommas. Some just love me and my kids enough that they can relate and encourage me on my own journey. I am blessed to have one such friend who is on my kid’s emergency contact list at school. She is the ONLY one who has special permission to break into my house and wake me up if I am sleeping off the night shift and there is an emergency with my kiddos. I know she would do ANYTHING for me or my kids and so this Mother’s Day, I celebrate her too. All of these women together help me to be a better mother. 

I don’t know what your Mother’s Day has in store. For me, I am camp nurse at Creekside, a Young Life camp in Antelope, for Michael’s work group who helped design the camp. I think it will be a hoot and I will remind everyone not to bleed or need me on Sunday because it is my day. It is my day and a day for all the women who helped me make it this far. Cheers to you.

Shake it Out

I think we all need a theme song. This week my song is “Shake it Out.” I heard it on Glee last night and it struck a chord. I have encountered some unusual people already this week including one very unhappy and unkind man – I would even go so far as to call him mean. Fortunately for me, he wasn’t my patient but I did overhear a few of his tirades that he unleashed on my nursing colleagues and it was quite unnerving. Imagine how the people who were actually in the room felt. I don’t know why he was so unkind. I have no doubt that he was painful from surgery but we have a lot of painful patients that aren’t mean. Judging from his tirade, this wasn’t his first. He was an expert at yelling. Maybe his theme song is “Mean Old Man.” 

When the charge nurse emerged from the man’s room in one piece after one of his rants, I thanked her for not assigning him to me as my skin isn’t that thick yet. I also asked her if she was okay. She told me her trick. She said honestly, when someone goes off on a rant like that, after trying to meet all of their needs, she said she sings in her head. It helps her cope. When she realizes that a patient needs to explode and she is the target, her head is filled with song. I love it. His screaming at that moment had nothing to do with her. She listened politely while he unleashed but it was set to background music. Brilliant.

Misguided tirades have been a theme around our house this week. Michael was on the receiving end of a disgruntled dad in the carpool line while he was dropping the kids off at school. Michael has become a regular in the carpool line. He knows how it works. He is also an architect so respects the way things are designed and how they are supposed to go down. Imagine his surprise when a dad pulled up next to him in the line, stopped his car (which is totally against how the line operates) and got out just so he could yell at Michael. He thought Michael was going too fast and decided it was worth creating a hazard and yelling at him to prove his point. Thankfully, Michael has a thicker skin than I do and was also perceptive enough to know that this man’s venting probably didn’t have much to do with him. He was confident he had been driving safely. He let the man do his thing while showing restraint. He assured the kids that all was okay (yes, the man had the gall to yell at Michael with the kids still in the car) and sent them on their way. I didn’t ask Michael if a song was playing in his head while the man unleashed, but if it was, I imagine it had the word “crazy” in the title.

I believe most of the time I am a good listener. I really try to be and I believe people have the right to my full attention when they are talking to me. Emphasis on the word talking which usually doesn’t come with increased volumes and a contorted facial expression. I am not perfect and have been known to try to do multiple things while carrying on a conversation, but, for the most part, I do okay on the listening end. I am finally realizing that there are the rare instances when it might be better to half listen…or filter what I am hearing. There are a lot of hurting people out there…people who have had experiences that have hardened their hearts and made them very, very angry. I come into contact with a lot more people on a regular basis in my current job. So far I have been on the receiving end of only one impressive, unwarranted tirade and it was very hard on me. I am sure there are more in my future. Some of the words may be justified but when someone is screaming, most are probably not. It may just be an unhappy soul that needs an outlet. 

For these instances, I am going to use my song.  I picked “Shake it Out” this week in particular for the line “Shake it out, shake it out: It’s hard to dance with a devil on your back, so shake him off.”  The patient this week had more than a surgical incision on his back that was keeping him from dancing and I think he might have needed to shake it out. The trick for me is going to be not to sing my song out loud when it fills my head. Who would be the crazy one then?

What’s your song?