I thought about life. I thought about my calling. I thought about nursing. An internal struggle arose when I realised nursing may not be my settling place. Flashbacks of the entire TtoP as well as past postings ran through my mind. I have not signed up for this. No, it can't be. Nursing isn't supposed to be like this. It isn't meant to be.
Nothing's new. But hoping that things would turn out better motivated me to move on. However, reality struck hard this time. Perhaps a graduating student's passing out phase, but somehow the thoughts became too overwhelming. I cried before the Lord that day. I wanna be home. I wanna be home so desperately. There wasn't anyone in the hospitals that understood this cry. Somehow, I just gave up trying to explain after all these years. Because the more 'feedbacks' and 'evaluation' were given, the more distant I felt from nursing. I realised one thing that stood out right smack in my face -I couldn't fit in.
Realising that a good many others who are feeling the same way comforted only little. Was it our training or was it just... us? I finally understood why the attrition rate was so high. Yet, it was interesting to know that most still loved nursing, no matter what experiences they had. It was strange that everyone else couldn't understand what we were talking about, all except us.
Yet in the midst of all these internal struggles, I put on a mask of confidence. I learnt to put on thick foundation everyday to hide any insecurities and 'make-up' such that the skin on my face can be super duper thick to last me through the day. I learnt to hide my frustrations and to do my best to handle all that the day has for me. I had to do all these. For my inner spirit forces me to. That no matter how I am feeling or what happens, I have to give my best to those that God has brought to me that day.
With all the struggles and disappointments, I came to God and sang him a song. I sang and brought him a sacrifice of praise. I thanked him through all that he had happened. And my heart began to refocus back on him and on his calling for me.
New thoughts that I never really focused on flooded my mind.
I thought of R and how he felt so deperate while gasping for air right in front of me. I thought of how I could sense so strongly his feeling of impending doom and the God given ability to calm him down with methods that came just so automatically. I thought of the care and concern given to him that day. And I thought of his big smile while walking out of the hospital, with one hand holding on to his 3 year old grandson and another waving goodbye to me.
I thought of GN and his eyes of hesitency upon me as he shared his sexual history. I thought of the vulnerability and later relief, as he sensed the acceptance. I thought of the moment when I saw beyond the surface acceptance of his diagnosis and the actual fear that was in his eyes. I thought of the smile that I gave to him just before I left and the smile that he returned back.
I thought of THL and the wonderment of how his atypical chest pain bothered him but not the team who laughed it off. I thought of how his concern stuck in my head so much that I spent the rest of the night thinking and looking up his condition to see if there was any way I could possibly help to ease his concern.
And I thought of SKG, my dear colleague who was of the same age as me and diagnosed with ca colon that had already mets to the liver and LN. And I thought of the calmness in her voice when asked if she knew what her diagnosis was. I thought of her parents who had yet to know about the news and how they would react in the evening when they arrived. I thought of how brave she was to go through this all by herself, without wanting to scare her parents by breaking the news to them on the phone. I thought of the utter loss of words I had that day and the brief connection of eyes, hoping against hope that she could sense my concern beyond words.
Then there was dear SCG, my longest staying patient who often screamed and shouted at me due to his demented state. I thought of the rare smile he had when I managed to calm him down one day with the use of therapeutic touch and words. I thought of the times when I would offer a kind word to his wife when she couldn't bear to see him suffer so much and broke down and cried. I thought of the day when I came back to work realising that he had gone into status epileptics and suffered a stroke and deteriorating into DIL/DNR status. I remembered the sinking of heart that day and the missing of his shouts and screams. I thought of the short moments I had with his family, helping them to go through the different stages of grief and the gladness in my heart upon seeing them reach the acceptance stage, with a smile on their faces as they prepare for his leaving. I thought too, of how the love I observed being showered over SCG brought a smile to my weary heart that day.
And I remember pastor LKH, who trusted and relied on God throughout the days of investigation into the cause of his jaundice and took his newly diagnosed DM condition in stride. I remember the mornings where he would do his QT and close the bible with a smile on his face. I remember his cheerfulness and encouragement that he brought to the other patients in his room, despite his own condition. I remembered the strength that I saw in his spirit and his politeness to us as we took care of him.
And there was KBT, whom I spent a great deal of time explaining his medications to him. And I thought of the time he walked alongside me as I walked down the corridor to ask about his treatment plan. And I thought of the time he came all the way up to the nursing counter just to talk to me about the back pain that was bothering him. I remembered the time he turned back after I had addressed his concerns to comment that the nurses here were so helpful. And I remembered giving him a smile and wink before he walked back to his bed.
I thought of Mdm F, whom I noticed to have a very blunted look. I remembered the time of using all the skills I could remember to minister to her regarding the depressed feelings she felt. I remembered that challenge of having to think medically as well as in a psych way and at the same time, seeing her as a person in need of God's love. I remembered the anxious questions of whether she would get well and the news of ca ovary mets to liver the next day. Yet, I thought of the days following that where my very first question to her everyday was to ask about how she felt that day.
I remember S, who trusted and spoke to me about the excoration around his urethra that was giving him a lot of pain, of which he did not tell anyone else about. I remember the good nurse-patient relationship I built with him, right at the moment I admitted him. I love the waving of hellos and the smile that broke from his mouth everytime he saw me around.
And I remember those times when I could assess many of their conditions, speak and discuss with them regarding their conditions and treatment plan, as well as provide reassurance, toppled up with patient education at the same time. I love the times I spoke to Mr C and Mr T regarding their diabetic condition and using the knowledge learnt in the polyclinic to educate them. I remember the joy it brought to me when they understood their condition better and the actions to take in preventing similar episodes of either DKA or hypoglycemia from occuring in the future.
And yes, even the time when a little one came to visit his father and they did not have hot water to make his milk. I volunteered to get him some and made milk for him ( things learnt in KKH :) I remember the gratitude and relief the mother had on her face when I brought her the milk.
And I saw how much God had used and taught me, despite what I thought of myself. I saw the small things that I had overlooked due to all the discouragements and 'not up to standard' feedback. I saw how much God can do with all the little contacts I had with all my patients, family members or even staff themselves. I saw how lives had been touched throughout my time there and how my own life had been touched by them. And I looked up and thanked the Lord on how he had used me to serve the very calling I had recieved from him- to serve the sick, the poor and the injured.
And I learnt... To stop by along the journey and smell the roses along the way. For it is not the destiny that counts, but the journey that matters to God.
And I believe, I'll be home one day.
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