What Matters

Since September of this year, I have returned to hospice nursing, my true passion in my profession. I have said, many times, that there is a sacredness in caring for people and their families as the end of life here approaches. It is an intimate, private time where there is no room for pretense. It is a privilege to be present, and to be able to help.


 In the few months I have admitted hospice patients, I have seen love expressed in its purest form. A wife, learning that her 41 year old husband was actively dying, that his restlessness was a sign of imminent death, laid on his chest and, for at least twenty minutes, spoke of memories in their lives, remembering trips they had taken and times spent with their children. She did not pause as she recalled, for him, mental pictures of a good life, and somehow he was able to hear her and even respond verbally as she would say, "Do you remember how we.....?" No one told her to do this; it was a spontaneous act of love and a soothing gift in her attempt to help him become calm. Hearing her voice,he was able to stop struggling.


Yesterday my work took me to a nursing home. As I looked at the many elderly men and women sitting motionless and alone in wheelchairs as time ticked away, I thought: if it all comes down to this, being old and wrinkled and forgetful, what matters?  Instantly, the words of Elisabeth Kubler-Ross came to my mind. She is known for being the pioneer in the care of the dying, spending hundreds, if not thousands of hours at their bedsides. Being debilitated by a stroke at the end of her life, she spent her last two years contemplating the lessons she had learned, both in her work and in finding patience to endure being trapped in her body for so long. 


The final chapter, On Life and Living, in her final book, The Wheel of Life, ends with these words:


"You should live until you die. No one dies alone. Everyone is loved beyond comprehension. Everyone is blessed and guided. It is very important that you do only what you love to do. You may be poor, you may go hungry, you may live in a shabby place, but you will totally live. And at the end of your days, you will bless your life because you have done what you came here to do.


The hardest lesson to learn is unconditional love. 


Dying is nothing to fear. It can be the most wonderful experience of your life. It all depends on how you have lived. Death is but a transition from this life to another existence where there is no more pain and anguish.


Everything is bearable when there is love. My wish is that you try to give more people more love.


The only thing that lives forever is love."

Hard lessons

I have known, from previous experience, that life can deal you blows that knock the air out of you and leave you breathless and scared. Until your diaphragm starts to function again, only moments pass, but when you can't breathe a moment can last a very long time.
In the past several months, I have learned some painful truths that will leave scars on my heart, but not my soul.


You must do your work in whatever manner meets your own standards. And I know, in my soul, that I have given my best to my patients, co-workers and managers at Ohio State for many years. I was the person who would walk down the hallways and smile at people because I think it's the right thing to do. I would try to give comfort to a patient by bringing them a blanket or giving encouragement. I was not a perfect employee but I was an excellent employee. No one can take from me the memories I have where my help mattered- a little, or a lot.


But my heart- there's another story. Because, in my heart, I thought that this mattered to my employer. I thought my work mattered. I thought I mattered. This, I have come to realize, is false. In the machine that is OSU, I am nothing more than a replaceable small part. And the supply of small parts, regardless of quality, are all in the same jar to be pulled out at random.


I always called Ohio State my home away from home, and, as the saying goes, home is where your heart is. The days and weeks and months of applying for different nursing positions and falling into the "not selected" file have been hurtful. "There are a lot of nurses looking for jobs" was what a nurse recruiter said when I asked for help.


I will leave OSU on September 4 older and wiser, but my last wisdom gained there will leave a lasting impression that I will never forget. For now, I keep my gaze low so I don't have to see or smile at people I pass. I know, in time, I'll start looking up again. We are small parts with hearts that grow battered and heal over time, leaving scars so that it's never quite the same. But we alone own what happens to our souls.

Angel

Yesterday I was sitting on a bench outside the Health Science Library at THE Ohio State University Medical Center. I am not usually in the practice of praying for specific things, but just before I decided to sit for a moment and look out at the green space in front of the medical center, I had silently prayed for God to send a friend. It has been a difficult month here at my "home away from home" , leaving me feeling lost and of diminished worth. Before a minute had passed a woman named Mary appeared walking up to me.

Mary is a lovely lady and a friend who I have known now for 8 years. She asked me how things were going and I replied "not so good". Mary knows I left a position I had really liked in Emergency Medicine in order to do palliative care work. To my increasing dismay, this turned out to be one of the poorer choices I have made in my nursing career, as I have tried unsuccessfully now for 2 years to find a place where I fit in like I did there. Mary told me that she knew that this time in my life was temporary and said that I should be strong because she knew that something was going to come along that would be a good place for me. She lifted my heart by her words, even as I cried to hear them. She helped me to see past the way things are and to find patience, even for a day, to wait for something good to happen. She reminded me to have faith and to believe in myself. And then, after giving me a small hug, she continued on her way. I clearly heard a bell ringing softly, or maybe I just felt it in my heart. Angels are real. 

Mother's Day

I thought about titling this post "What Mother's Day Means To Me" just I like I would have done when writing a paper back in elementary school. I guess this blog really is about are my memories of motherhood, stretching back 28 years now- back in "the day" before paper diapers had gathers around the legs and babies could poop right out of the gap without getting a spot on the diaper....and there you have one of my memories. (Easter 1982, cute new baby Easter outfit worn for 15 minutes)
As a mom, I experienced all the highs and lows that come with raising healthy kids. I love(d) being a mom and always thought I'd be very good at it. Throughout the years there were many times when I asked myself what I had been smoking when I thought such a thing- in reality I was a terrible mother. Sometimes I wondered where the mothering I had done went during some teen years when I didn't think I knew my kids anymore. As I said, all the highs and lows.
Here are a few of the many moments that stick with me: The time I was scolding Peter when he was about 6 for some transgression. I was face to face and, while correcting him, noticed he was actually paying attention to me. "Finally", I thought, "I'm getting through to him!" I finished my lecture and waited to see what he had to say for himself. He said "Mom, did you know that if you look really close at a person's face it looks like they only have one eye?"

We has put our house on the market and had purchased cream colored area rugs so it would show well. The kids were in early grade school. I was upstairs when Peter's voice came ringing out "Oh, no Heidi, that's gonna STAIN". (Yes, it did- a whole glass of grape juice.)

My memories of Heidi aren't so verbal. Like yesterday I can feel her little pink corduroy overalls as I hug her, and see the times I spent putting on her stage makeup for one of her dance performances. I will never forget the sight of her bedroom in her teen years (omg!!) or the fun we had sitting in the parking lot behind a bakery we considered to do her wedding cake, eating the samples of white, chocolate and red velvet they sent with us.

The photo above is of, from left, Peter, Autumn (his bride-to-be in 23 days!), Heidi, her husband Ashley, Kayden, and Aaron, Ashley's 13 year old brother. I love each of these wonderful people and am deeply grateful to each of them for bringing their special personalities into my life.

I think often of Tammy, Ashley and Aarons' mom, who died suddenly and tragically 2 years ago. I hadn't yet got to know her very well, but we both were so excited for the little grandchild we were expecting together. She is especially in my heart on the nights when I rock her little grandson to sleep and think how she would have loved this baby and how proud she would be of her son as a husband, father and brother. "Ashley is a stand up guy" were her words the last time I saw her and I am finding how right she was.

And it wouldn't be mother's day for me without thanking my own mom and Jim's mom, who has her wings, for all their love and sacrifice.

And last, thank you to my furry children who keep me young and give me reasons to laugh every day!

Gifts

A busy happy life...... Leah, our 17 year old high school junior, is playing rugby. We are learning about a sport we knew nothing about. Leah, on the left (with her painted friend and team mate) loves it.

Kayden and Gramma had a sleepover Saturday night because his mom and dad were attending parties for Autumn and Peter, respectively, in preparation for their wedding May 23. Kayden is holding a basketball and a hammer. He is obsessed with balls of all kinds, but especially basketball. When we walk around the neighborhood he points out EVERY hoop he sees and wants me to lift him up so he can put a regular size ball in the hoop like his dad does..... The hammer goes to a new toy (of course)- a maze that balls travel through after you hammer them down through holes. He did a good job and didn't even try the hammer on the cats or dogs.

The furry family are all doing ok. Nell was taking a sun nap and the window pane painted a tattoo on her side.(Picture inspired by my friend Kurt who takes really cool pictures of sun and shadow. Hail to the master!) Mollie is feeling more at home and loves her back yard. I had put in a stone walkway where Lady and Winnie had worn the grass thin and Mollie has decided that the other side of the yard is her path of choice....sigh....

So many gifts to brighten each day.

On the road

"Begging!" implores the email messages coming into my mailbox. "Only one leg to fill- please help!" And so it goes for the coordinators who volunteer their many hours setting up amazingly complicated transports shuttling dogs and cats across the northeastern US and into Canada. Animals who currently are housed at shelters that euthanize or ones that try not to but are filled to capacity must leave or die. It's that simple. Along with the information about the legs left to fill- 2 drivers needed for leg 4b from Columbus to Mansfield, meeting place the east side of Walmart at exit 19 for 6 dogs- come pictures and descriptions of the animals- Buddy, a 40 pound black lab, sweet boy, thinks he's a lap dog, travels well- who need a lift. I scroll through the pictures and descriptions of these furry people, animals who would love a person to greet after work or to have their bed on the floor by a little kid's bed, and know that if I- and people like me- don't step up and volunteer some time and gas there won't be a tomorrow.

Sometimes I wonder why animals mean so much to me. Why not orphaned children or refugees who have survived disaster? I don't know. I do care very much about the orphans and refugees and do what little I can for them and I accept that in this life loving animals is what I am to do.

Charlie

Our happy little bunny, Charlie, left us this morning to join Jessie, Patience, Winnie and Lady in the heaven where animals go. The trees are always green and the weather mild with soft clouds, golden sun and soft rain showers to make the tender lettuce leaves grow. Peeled banana bits hang from trees, ripe and ready for a little nibble and hay grows fresh every morning, blowing sweet and fragrant in a soft breeze. Friendly hawks, as well as all manner of feline and canine companions provide companionship and romp or swoop over the peaceful place where all bunnies are free and happy and well.