A Glimpse

I usually save blogging for stories from my overseas trips, but I decided to do a little update. I've been back in the Pediatric ICU since October after being out for a year and a half. When I first went back, I was absolutely scared out of my mind. Much to my surprise, and relief, by the end of the first shift it seem to all come back to me, and by the end of the first week I felt right at home. Around the holidays we had some tough cases in the unit. I started to notice that things seemed different to me, but I couldn't really explain it or put it in to words. As we started the new year, we have barely been able to keep an open bed in the unit for more than a few minutes, meaning we have 30+ patients most of the time. The majority come, get better, and go home.

Over the last few weeks or so, we seem to have had a cluster of really difficult losses. I recently had a conversation with a coworker that was extremely helpful for me as we processed after taking care of a particular patient. It had hit me harder than most and my coworker asked me why I thought that was. Without hesitation, and without thinking, I told her it was because the family actually let me care for them, and so I was feeling it with them. We see people at their worst. In the midst of tragedy, coping is sometimes impossible, and a lot of times, it is difficult for families to receive from us because we are strangers and something horrible is happening to their child. For the staff, our own emotion and grief has to go somewhere, but over time we learn to shut it off. We have to disconnect to some degree or it just becomes overwhelming. In my time away from the ICU I forgot how to shut that off, but it turns out that I am very grateful for this. I didn't realize that I was so burnt out when I left, and the time off wasn't exactly planned. But now that I'm back I'm realizing how badly I needed a reprieve; to fill back up so that I would have something to give to these families. In this case, these parents allowed me to care for them, to help carry the grief, and to make the process peaceful. This is where I find the dichotomy of my job. I love it and I hate it. The very existence of my profession means that kids are sick, hurt, and dying. I hate that my job has to exist. On the other hand, since it does exist, I can't imagine a greater privilege than taking care of those very kids and their families. I love that. I really do love my job. I feel more of the pain because I choose not to shut down, but I also get to feel more joy. The day that it doesn't hurt or that I'm not sad with them, or that I don't feel the relief and joy, is the day I quit. Although there are losses, we have many victories too. There are days when I walk out of the hospital knowing that I was in the right place at the right time and our team did the right thing. In the joy of the victory, and in the sorrow and grief of the loss, I was created for this. More than ever before, I have felt the grace of God in my job in this recent challenging season. I have had some amazing connections and conversations with families. God has taught how to listen to them, given me the words to speak, and the wisdom to know when to be silent. Most of this has happened without me really realizing it, but the more I pray for God to take care of my assignments at work, the more He creates these encounters and I sit back amazed at what He is doing. I am reminded that joy and peace are not found in circumstances, whether good or bad. They are present because God is present with me. I am not in this on my own. If I were, I could never carry this load.

I don't want to leave this without adding a little something else. My niece, Bella, died almost 11 years ago. Sometimes I can't believe it's been that long. It feels like yesterday. God has taken that horrible loss and made me the nurse that I am. When I have the privilege of caring for a child who is headed to heaven, I picture Bella standing with Jesus waiting to greet them and show them around. Maybe it's my brain trying to cope with the tragedy in front of me, and maybe God is letting me see a glimpse of what is really happening. Either way, I am grateful for this.