« Are You Jim's Daughter? | Main | Register for CR Society Conference! »
August 14, 2007
Sometimes the Beauty of Life Hits Like Lightening Washing Everything Clear
And these dimmers of doubt flicker fade out and disappear.
That's a line from Shawn Colvin's "Kill the Messenger" one of my favorite songs of all time. I heard her sing it in concert in 1993. Wow. Hearing the words
Jane, it sure looks like rain
Echoing above a giant audatorium was one of the most amazing experiences I've ever had.
But nowhere near as amazing as my last meeting, and my last phone call.
You know, I am cynical. I am battlehardened. But there's something about these nurses that, with all due apologies to Stevie Wonder, knocks me off my feet.
These are the people whose job it is to save your life. Maybe you're in a car accident, maybe you're having a routine surgery but something goes wrong and you lose too much blood. They take care of you, they actively advance your healing process, keep you from dying, manage your pain, make sure you can communicate with your loved ones... they get pretty crappy wages, and many of them are working split shifts with their spouses so somebody can be home with the kids. But they'll save your life. and they don't worry so much about their own.
Okay, so I'm showing all the signs of being in love. That's what happens when a group of nurses really gets me. I'm willing to do anything for them. But you've gotta understand... if it weren't for some dedicated, nameless nurses: the love of my life, and my mom, and my best friend's son, and everyone else important in my life, wouldn't be here.
There are so few people who really know what nurses do. They don't call attention to themselves. They don't need to. When you're the patient in the bed, you'll understand. I had the honor this evening of meeting with a twenty some year nurse who could start and IV on a 90 year old heroin addict. What they do is beyond hardcore. There is a part of me that has always wondered if I should do it. But at some point I realized I could do more, for them, and for the patients, by doing exactly what I do. I'm good at what I do. I'm a good cook, but I'm a better organizer. A little discipline, a little love. Not unlike a little garlic, a little chipoltle. You put it together just right, and you achieve perfection.
These nurses, my Scranton girls and guys... here in the middle of coal mining country. Close to the place where my organization had our only strike ever. Northeast PA. It's so beautiful here in falll when all the trees turn. They know they're gorgeous, I think. Just like my cats when they're being cute. Years of evolution have taught the cats, and the trees, how to attract humans.
I realize that there's no way I can describe to you how fabulous my nurses are. There's this one I simply adore. I used to threaten to run away with her. She's forty something, maybe older. She's got a couple of grown kids. She's sharp and witty and tough and I want to be just like her. She's got a couple of puppies and a husband and a house and a nice middle class life. And you know how she got that? By spending the last twenty years saving lives. Giving up her weekends, nights, evenings, holidays, mopping up blood and worse, and standing by your loved ones when they would have died or gotten even sicker had there not been somebody so dedicated and so smart and so talented standing at their bedside.
I am so blessed in that my darling MR understands how much I love my nurses. How much they need me, even when that means I have to be away from home for long stretches. Not every organizer is so lucky. Lots of organizers have partners who resent their commitment to the work.
But it's hard to live by the rules
I never could and still never do
That's the Pretenders coming off my Ipod. I never did live by the rules for what a woman should do. I don't marry, I don't have kids, I've dedicated my life to these strange, rare, beautiful creatures callled nurses... they're so weird, really, you've got a get to know a few to appreciate it. They appear to be so normal, but they can take blood, guts, death, all the pain that the rest of us shy away from... then they just punch out and pop over to run a PTA meeting.
It was only my co-workers who got me through the birth of our twin campaigns. It hurt so bad. One nurse got fired, my primary organizer went out on leave, I had to take over. My CR went to hell (brief nod to the fact that the blog is supposed to be about CR!) and I just tried to hold everyone together. We won both and we won big. My twins are alive and well and screaming.
As Eric Clapton once so memorably said,
My love is alive
My love is alive.
PS: I just got off the phone with the greatest nurse leader of all time. Wow. She is my inspiration. We need to plan the victory party! Maybe I can contrive, somehow, to have some healthy food options there...
Posted by april at August 14, 2007 6:45 PM
Comments
I appreciate your nice thoughts about nurses. My husband is a male nurse. Ohhhh, the stories he tells me! I can hardly put a Band-Aid on my kids without getting woozy -- but he floats between the psych ward and the ER with the greatest of ease -- Amazing. Well, that, and the fact that he broke WAY out of the stereotypical manly mold to become a nurse. Thank you for taking the time to recognize greatness and make it public. I enjoyed your blog. Originally stopped by for CR stuff, but got the bonus re: nurses. Thanks!
Posted by: Trish at August 16, 2007 7:39 AM
Thanks Trish! Wow, ED and Psych! That's awesome! Big hugs to you both!
a
Posted by: april at August 16, 2007 7:44 AM
