Sticks and Stones

I have been called lots of different things – type A, uptight, relentless, neurotic…and some nicer names – thoughtful, caring, kind. Until last week, child of the devil was never on this list.

Rest assured, I wasn’t at home – I was at work. I arrived a few minutes early and was organizing myself before receiving report from the outgoing nurse. I heard my patient before I saw her. She was yelling from her room – asking for people that I figured weren’t there. I sensed she was going to be my patient even before I checked the room number. I just had a hunch that my number was up.

In report I learned that this wasn’t her typical behavior. She appeared to be having a medication reaction – complete with hallucinations, agitation and just general mean behavior. Awesome. Always up for a challenge, I was hopeful that the night would go smoothly.

It didn’t. When I returned to her room after receiving report, she was praying/chanting. I tried to be quiet and careful. When I told her it was time for her meds, she opened her eyes and cursed me. Ummm…not going so well. She told me she didn’t need her meds because God was going to save her. She then told me that while He was going to heal and save her, I was going to hell for my unbelieving ways. Oh, okay. I figured I could clear this up. I leaned down to her level and told her that actually I am a believer. I do have faith in God. We are going to be okay, you and I. We have something in common. Nope. She wasn’t buying it. She looked at me with her penetrating eyes, called me a liar and then told me I was a child of the devil. So much for reason. I wanted to explain that my bloodshot eyes were just from lack of sleep but she wasn’t having any of it. She then rebuked me and yelled at me to get out of her room. Hmmm….that didn’t really go as planned.

I had her a few more nights after our first encounter. She did clear up from the medication so the intensity of her behavior and her hallucinations subsided. I did learn that even on her best day, she wasn’t that nice. I wasn’t called names that were quite as hurtful as that first night but I do believe she told me that she was going to die because I was so mean. Really? Because I was just thinking the same thing about her.

I need thicker skin. I love my job. I really do. It is interesting, exciting and I am learning a ton. Sometimes though I worry that I just don’t have thick enough skin. Crazy words from a lady not in her right mind shouldn’t bother me…but they do. Sometimes I feel like I don’t just have thin skin but maybe it is translucent. Is that possible? I think about words spoken to me days later. I have trouble shaking them. Maybe I should work in preoperative nursing. You spend very little time with the patients while they are conscious. You help get them ready for surgery and then they have their happy juice (not a technical term) and send them on their way. Something to consider.

This experience does remind me to be careful with my words. Sometimes I find myself saying things at home without thinking first. Okay, I do this a lot. One of my kids brought home several pages of graded homework the other day. The majority of it was really good – stars, stickers and A’s. There was one minor test that wasn’t so great. That’s what I pointed out. Afterwards, I thought about it. Bad move. She is 8. A poor grade on one reading comprehension test isn’t going to keep her out of 4^th grade. As a matter of fact, it was probably just a bad day or something else was going on. I have to stop and think before I speak because it’s just good practice AND at least one of my kids seems to have inherited my translucent skin. 

Is it wrong to hope that my patient has moved on by the time I go back to work? The one thing I will take away from the time we spent together - Words are powerful. Use them wisely.

The Perils of Being a Kid

I chaperoned a third grade field trip last week. Those trips, they wear me out more than nursing. I am grateful that my schedule allows me to go now and again and this one was to Camp Tilikum – a scenic, fun outdoor camp in the country. The weather was great and, thankfully, the ratio of parents to kids was pretty good.

On these trips I am often reminded how hard it is to be a kid. We had group of 15+ fairly well behaved 8-year-olds but even so – it is hard to sit still, hard to follow directions, hard to navigate friendships. Whew. One boy called Audrey an idiot (really?). Fortunately he shares his awesome vocabulary equally among kids so she didn’t take it too personally. Another girl who tends toward the dramatic got REALLY mad at Audrey when they didn’t end up in the same canoe together. On top of this you have the big decisions like who to sit by at lunch, stand next to in line, etc., etc. 

No wonder my kids are worn out when they get home. Not only are they learning math, spelling and all the other usual suspects, they have to figure out people and relationships. I forgot how exhausting this can be. I hear kids telling one another that they aren’t their friends any more. Nice. Like life isn’t hard enough and then the people you thought were your friends aren’t – probably for some important reason like you wore blue instead of pink today. I tell my kids that the friends I have now would never say that to me. If they are your friends, they are your friends every day – even on the hard days. I think they kind of get it but it is still so hard when the buddy they have had for a year “decides” they aren’t buddies any more – at least for this moment. How are we ever going to survive middle school?

I try to reassure them that this will all shake out and they will find themselves with some good, true friends. Friends who are your friends every day, despite what color you are wearing. That’s the nice part of being an adult …ideally you are spending more of your time with nice people – people you are choosing to be around. Most of the friends I have now, I have been friends with for years. 

I was trying to explain to my kids the other day that the great thing about true friends is that you get excited when they succeed. As you grow up, it stops being about competition and you get to enjoy seeing where life takes the people in your life. I find myself getting really excited when I see some of my friends’ accomplishments. My good friend passed the bar a few weeks ago after hours and hours of studying. I almost felt like I had passed. For a moment I thought I did and tried to practice law until someone reminded me I need a degree for that...details… 

Another one of my friends made a MOVIE. Like a real, in theaters movie- not like the kind Mason makes on the flip video camera. This movie is a really awesome documentary that follows Detroit firefighters. Michael and I got the chance to see it when it came to town for a couple of days.

Another friend of mine never ceases to amaze me by the remarkable job she is doing raising her three boys on her own as her husband serves in Afghanistan. I think this is his third tour out of the country. She doesn’t complain, is a wonderful mom and has a steadfast faith that I wish I could emulate. And the list goes on and on. The friends in my life help teach me important lessons every day that guide me along in this journey.

When I take a look at my friends, it reassures me that in the end, Mason and Audrey will find some true friends of their own. Friends who will share in the good and bad that comes along with living. I just hope we make it to that point. I don’t know how much drama this mama can take.