Exhaustion and HIPPA have kept me from writing much lately.
To sum up my last few months in the hospital: I have seen alcohol withdrawal,
death, repeat customers, multiple strokes, bipolar and, most importantly,
healing…and I am better for experiencing all of it.
Ah, summer…
AH!!!!! SUMMER!!!!!!
I can say the above both ways…in the same hour. There are
definitely parts of summer I love. I love the warmer weather, the water, not
having to be anywhere first thing in the morning, ice cream, bike rides and
strawberries. There are also definitely parts of summer I don’t love. I am not
as fond of kids who say they are bored, the fighting, the constant togetherness
and the increased lack of sleep working the night shift.
Kids are at day camp this week so, summer is going pretty
well so far. This is the only camp they
have planned all summer so in the midst of working, running errands and doing
yard work, I am trying to soak in the quiet and the fact that nobody is asking
me what we are going to do next. I am trying to store up some reserves for the next
couple of months. If only it worked like that…
If I am honest, the past couple of months haven’t been my
favorite. I am feeling increasingly isolated working the night shift with no
end in sight, some relationships feel a bit strained, I have awesome styes on
my eyes and my middle schooler has a new attitude that I could do without. I
KNOW things could be worse. We are all healthy (well, except for the styes but
that doesn’t qualify as much more than ugly) and blessed. I know all this.. but
if I am being HONEST, life seems a bit muddy at the moment.
I attribute A LOT to working the night shift and living in a
bit of a fog. I imagine I will be in for a bit of a shock when I move to a day
shift and learn that some of my issues remain – like that mouth on my middle
schooler is probably not shift related. It feels a little bit like living on
hold….Living on hold with some annoying, Barry Manilow slowed down hold music.
Then I realized this holding pattern must be a bit like how
my patient’s feel. Many of them have a long recovery ahead of them. Often I am
asked from a stroke patient’s family if normalcy will return, and I can’t
honestly answer. For some, they may recover completely. Strength may return to
all their extremities, their memory and speech may improve and they may be as
good as new. For others, they still may never speak again, they may need
assistance with mobility for the rest of their lives, and they may never be
quite the same. It takes time to see which symptoms improve, resolve or remain.
How frustrating that must be.
The not being able to speak one gets me every time. I had a
patient recently where this was one of her issues. I was trying to explain it
to my kids last night and I don’t think they could quite grasp it. For some
stroke patients, the words just don’t come. They can’t say what they want to
say. Even worse, for some, they can’t even think of the right words to say let
alone get them out. How frustrating that would be. Or would it? If you don’t
know the right words, do you experience frustration in not being able to say
them? I get frustrated when I feel like I am saying the right words but am not
understood (sometimes a daily occurrence around here with the kids) so I have
to imagine when you are lying in a hospital bed and unable to communicate, that
must be excruciating.
Words are so powerful. More powerful than we know. Audrey
and I were talking about this the other day. She told me something she relayed
to a friend – something about the size of her head. I was horrified. It is hard
to think of how someone telling you that you have a big head (literally) could
be a compliment. Audrey is generally super sensitive and, with the exception of
her brother, doesn’t try to hurt feelings. I was so surprised that she would
tell her friend this but, to her credit, she really hadn’t seen it as a negative
- more as a fact. I think she genuinely felt bad that she had said something
that could be construed as hurtful.
I love words. Really. Love. Them. Much to my quiet husband’s
dismay. When I use so many of them, I need to be extra diligent at being more careful
with them. Something to work on during all this together time this summer when
I am sure that I may often be compelled to use some less than flattering four
letter words. If they happen to eek out, I am just going to blame it on the
night shift.
