Humanity in the Hospital

Sometimes I wonder what happens to the heart when you have to bounce back from seeing losses in the hospital. There are times I feel like being a nurse feels like I'm acting in an absurd play, to know the right things to say and the right times to say it. Even on an oncology floor where death frequently occurs, the process of placing a patient on hospice and helping them die still feels slightly unnatural and out of place. Even with the compassionate and understanding friends I have on the floor, it still feels out of place to say "I'm sad" and grieve the loss of a patient. It often makes me wonder what it's like with the residents, who often don't have the benefit of time and space to process the things that they're seeing or the collectiveness of staying in one place to be able to recap moments shared with a patient who has died. Does it grow numb after a while or is it a mechanism of survival to turn off and keep going? This week, after a whole day of conversing with the wife of a dying thirty year old man, she looked at me and said, "It must take a lot of strength to keep working on this floor and see this everyday." Her comment made me wonder what strength looks like. Does strength look like the ability to keep going? Sometimes it seems like so little is talked about amongst staff about how patients affect us. A coworker of mine once told me that all we can do is just provide for the need and move on. Yet, we let individuals affect and change us every day, should it not apply to those that we care for? After watching my patient and his family grieve over their loss, I came home that night and for the first time in a long time, cried over what I saw. It felt good. I felt human.

Vocation

It's taken me about one month to fill out a form for work. The form is a self-evaluation with examples from practice of my competencies as a nurse. It's HUP's way of awarding its nurses for what we do by providing a tier of clinical proficiency. In other words, a four dollar pay raise.

For someone who's cranked out a kajillion papers and projects, this four page application has been really difficult for me to do. My manager handed me the form and told me, "Cindy, this is your chance to brag about all the things that you do". The form wants me to list examples of how I fulfill different areas that exemplify competent nursing. Besides the fact that I have a hard time remembering what I did yesterday, finding examples has been really challenging. A huge part of it is because it's hard for me to think of nursing as competencies I have to fulfill. When I think of my job, I don't necessarily think of work. I don't think about the milestones I have to meet or clinical skills I have to obtain [although those are all things absolutely necessary to being a good nurse]. Simply put, I think of people. Try listing "likes people" under your skill set. Oiy.

That being said, filling out the form has made me think a bit about the word "Vocation". We sure spend enough time at our jobs, so what makes it so that it isn't so much "work" [as in labor] but a place we live life? A few quotes to tickle your mind:

"Vocation comes from the same root as voice, denoting the hearing of a divine call. Beyond knowing that God has a purpose for our lives, most of us spend little energy seeking out our vocation, especially in light of how the needs and the sufferings of our neighbors might inform how we use our gifts for divine purposes. There are plenty of people who are miserable in their jobs, for they have not listened to Gods call. And I would add there are many Christians who are not fulfilled in their spiritual lives becuase they have no sense of their gifts or purposes and they just run to the mission field to save souls rather than transform lives and communities using their gifts and those of the people they live among." -the irresistable revoluition, shane claiborne
"Many people mistake our work for our vocation. Our vocation is the love of Jesus." -Mother Theresa

home for the holidays

I begin this year in a sleepy haze of coffee induced happiness. A flurry of four days on the hospital floor has made for a welcome return to a quiet and empty house during the holidays. And in this state of Starbucks and cookie overload [if I ever become diabetic during the holidays, I blame Jesus getting born], I find I have much to be thankful for.

In a city often known for its roughness and harrowing crime streak, the city of Philadelphia has warmed me with its show of Brotherly Love during this holiday season. From friendly banter on the hospital floor, hearty pats on the back by interns who I've only met for 4 hours, phone calls from people who I haven't seen or spoken to for months, visits by homeless friends who offer their holiday greetings and come wanting to share a CD that has touched them, random invitations for homecooked dinners to midnight greetings and hugs from my neighbor Miss Chocolate, I find no lack of kindness. The quietness of the house reminds me that this city, even without my housemates, are full of people who remind me of God's presence and constant watch. Although Chicago will always hold its standings as "home" during the holidays, Philadelphia has found its place in my little heart.

A Happy New Year.