Collecting My Thoughts

I don't think that you can begin to write without first collecting your thoughts.  After a year without blogging, I am ready to type out the words in my head. Life has moved forward from when I first started this blog, exemplified by the redemption story of Tiger Woods; going full circle from terrible, agonizing defeats and despair, to actually winning again and being everyone's favorite.  I am looking forward to the upcoming "$9,000,000 Match Play" with Tiger and my buddy Phil Mickelson, just in a couple of days.  What a turn of events!

And so it goes, life with its unpredictable outcomes.  I am recovering from my second surgery.  Having only been on the other side of treatment, the patient role is awkwardly unfamiliar to me. I have a new appreciation for pre op anxiety, as you wait and wonder about the procedure and findings.  I emphasized twice to my doctor that I wanted to have a picture of what was going to be taken out of me.  I want to witness what had persisted in giving me such strange symptoms, a leaky vagina with persistent watery discharge, despite a D & C, and without an infectious or painful process.  I only read up on a few possibilities, due to my medical background, as there seemed to still be an allusive worrisome potential and I didn't want to dwell on the negative.  So starting my 3rd week post op, the news is "all's well," but I will have complete solace when I sit down with my provider next week, and quiz him on the pathology reports and results.

Nurses truly are the gems in these processes.  I won't forget my surgery counseling with the nurse who told me explicitly "to lay my ego aside and give my body the time it needs to heal; don't rush back to work." Her voice reinforced what I knew in my head and helped me to take her advice to heart.  As nurses we usually forge ahead, deny ourselves for the sake of the other, be it the patient, the staff, our unit, our hospital.  We believe the lie that is often forefront in our mind that "we are indispensable."  But then I remember from a fellow colleague years ago, "that no one is indispensable, the work, the hospital, will always go on."  So I was well prepped to take my time to heal.

It's the nurse who calls you by name out of the anesthesia blackout that you have been in for 2 1/2 hours.  The voice is clear and distinct, and you listen for how you are viewed with recovery. An oxygen mask blows in your face, still too groggy to keep your eyes open, but yes, able to slide over to the nearby bed. And to my surprise, I have my first Foley catheter, seriously?  All I felt was the need to pee, and I was reassured "go ahead and go, you have a catheter."  Back in a hospital room, it's the nurse who orients you to your new surroundings, communicating clearly all that's happened, and assessing your vital signs and physical being.  You have no recoil, you lay like a limp rag in the bed, it's over.  And the nurse is the one who covers you up from behind and helps you walk your first trek around the unit, IV, catheter bag and all, reminding you to "look forward, breathe deep."  And of course, you must do your breathing exercises with the ping pong ball.  Who but a nurse to be such a caring companion?

My first thought after a robotic laproscopic total hysterectomy was that it resembled similar feelings of discomfort after having delivered my 8 lb 4 oz baby boy, but without having the reward of the baby to care for, to take your mind off of your inner misery.  I even seemed to understand how my dog initially responded after being spayed, just pacing around the house and backyard somewhat dazed.  It wasn't so much pain as a "weird feeling" inside, and being sore and slow. I just wanted to stay quiet, silence was my main conversation those first few days.  I longed for retreat, for a chance to go "back home" and spend time with Mom and Dad, but of course, those days have gone.

But mostly I appreciate the kindness, the prayers, the well wishes and thoughts from so many friends and family.  Hearing from my Nurse Practitioner mentor was a special blessing, along with a visit from my brother on the very day of surgery.  Girlfriends came to sit with me, or assist me in taking Jazzy girl to the vet for her ear check.  Others brought me chicken soup, or made time with me for afternoon tea and scones.  Cards, texts and phone calls have touched my heart. I realize anew that the only thing that matters in life are these relational ties. No wonder that the Apostle Paul made such an astounding comment, that though faith, hope and love abound, the greatest gift we have to give and receive is love. (I Corinthians 13:13)  

If I haven't said it before or blogged about it, I have finally realized that my only purpose in life has been to love people.  I believe that is why I have been a nurse for almost 40 years.  God's vocation for me was to love.  Love people in their good health and moments, as well as in their ill and difficult times. I didn't realize this when I started out my nursing career and only have been able to put words or rather a word to my purpose, over these past few years.  I think I had always been looking for some grand statement of purpose, and I never could come up with it. I just kept going to work, doing the "same thing day in and out." But through life, having been broken by it and realizing that life doesn't always turn out how you think or want it to, I have realized the power of love.  The gift of being loved and accepted, and giving back that unconditional love goes miles.  Love is evident in our smallest actions, meals taste better when they are cooked with love. Kind words and statements of thankfulness are always well received and remembered.  Forgiveness is even possible when we love the other, who perhaps, inadvertently, offended us.  Love covers a multitude of sins. (I Peter 4:8)  I am overwhelmed by the outpouring of love, and in turn I realize that I must live out my remaining days with that one purpose, "to love."

I am 61 and blessed.  That has been my motto for year 2018.  I must admit there are times I fail to notice blessings, but during this season of pause I am starting anew to acknowledge all that I have invested in relationships.  Especially seeing the tremendous devastation and loss of life with our state's wild fires and senseless gun violence, I must not take for granted these moments to receive and give love.  For me to live is to love, each individual placed before me each and every day.  It is to be a love that prays God's blessing and goodness upon them.  It is a love that remains forever faithful, and a love that is genuine and evident in my actions and deeds.  

My final thought is to just do that one thing, love . . .