I can't believe it; Jodi's a wife! I'm so excited for her and Kevin as they begin the rest of their lives together. The wedding was so beautiful and I managed to stay warm for the most part. I wish I could say more, but I will let the pictures do the talking. (After all, I have to wake-up at 4:50am tomorrow for clinical. Phooey!)
Tomorrow I will board a plane and head less than 2,000 miles north into country 50 degrees cooler than where I am presently...and I am terrified. I like living in tank tops and flip flops. I had to go shopping for warm clothes!
Now grant it, I am really looking forward to seeing my dear friend get married and sharing in her special day..
So for all you Southern Californians who might read this while you are sweltering in 90 degree weather, be thinking of me and enjoy it!
When I was about this age, I loved listening to Psalty. Do you remember those cassette tapes? I would sit in front of the family tape player and push the rewind and play buttons so much, the little symbols wore off. My family finally had to make a rule that I was only allowed to listen to each tape or song ONE time per day.
Anyways, one of my favorite songs had the phrase, "I'm climbing my mountain, one step at a time." I've lately begun to think of this as my meditation. Life has gotten extremely overwhelming lately with tons of midterms and projects due. There is so little time to be given. The faculty has become frustrated with the students because we're not reading and the students are beyond frustrated with the faculty because there's too much to read and comprehend. Each faculty thinks theirs is the most important class and students are caught in the middle. (I know, what else is new?)
I'm glad I posted my last post about being thankful for breath. These days it's easy to get discouraged and overwhelmed. I'm at that point in the semester where it seems like it will never end and the responsibilities just keep pouring onto my plate. However, I will be thankful for the life I have, the blessings I continue to receive, and put my foot forward, one step at a time.
Tonight I will fall asleep counting my breaths. Each time I breath in, I will be thankful for the ease of which the action happens. This is not because I have respiratory problems, but because I watched someone else fight the battle...and lose. Last week I took care of a dear patient who had lived a long life. She had in medical terms empyema and pleural effusion. In lay terms she had very, very sick lungs. A machine was breathing for her, she had two tubes connected to her lungs from between her ribs to help drain the fluid and reinflate them, and a whole host of other tubes, lines, and sensors. I watched her loved ones hold her hand and love her without words. Later I watched as their hopes for recovery were smattered under their feet and the tough decision was made to withdraw care. There was no way she would improve with earthly measures. Her body had already begun to shut down. Tears were shed, prayers were whispered, memories were recalled and shared as the family said their final goodbyes.
Before my shift had ended, she peacefully (yes, it was peaceful) slipped away.
I thought I would be more torn up over losing my first patient, but I was actually at peace. This lady had a family who loved her dearly and from their stories had lived and full and active life. Part of what helped me was talking with the nurse over our lunch break. I knew that the plan was to withdraw care after lunches were over to give the family more time. I asked the nurse if she felt weird knowing that this lady's life depended on her lunch...in a sense, she held this woman's life at her "whim." The nurse said, "no, because she has not been living for several days." I realized this was true. I don't want to get into the whole euthanasia argument as this is not about that...This is about allowing the course of life to take place. Every birth means an eventual death. This woman's life had been extended far beyond natural means. Her lungs had grown weary and failed to sustain life.
Yes, I was sad for the loss of her family and I pray that the good memories carry them through the grieving and releasing process. I know that I will always remember that day as a day of growth and discovery. Of course I hope I don't have to experience very many of these days and if truth be told, I'd love to never have another patient pass on my watch. But I take comfort knowing that I survived my first and that it will serve as a guide for future ones.
