Because I'm a Nurse...

There's an ad on the radio promoting nursing that promises a job that will make you cry for joy. I promise it will make you cry. It will make you sob until you have no tears left. But none of that is going to be for joy.

My patient today is dying.

Death happens all the time in the hospital. People go in and never come out. They end up sicker and sicker, needing machines to breath, needing fluids to keep them alive. They bloat and their skin breaks down. Then one day their bodies can't take it anymore and their heart stops beating. But instead of being able to gently slip away, people come and pound on their chest, crack their ribs, and their peaceful step away from life becomes a traumatic slide into death.

I've become numbed to hospital deaths.

My patient today is lucky. He won't have a hospital death. He has a family who is going to make decisions that will help him breath better, help his body relax, help him be comfortable as he slips over the edge. I've watched them today. Their eyes are never dry. Their hands are never still as they hold his hand, fix his covers, flip the pages of their bible. Their mouths speak to him, tell him how much they love him. I have held them in my arms and wrapped my self around them as tightly as I could and wished that I could take away their pain. I have cried with them and I'm still crying for them.

At some point I couldn't go back into that room. Their sadness and grief sucked me dry. I feel so guilty because I should have given more and I just couldn't.

Is this the damned joy the ad talked about?

My friends and coworkers want me to feel better. I tell them it's okay to feel sad. I just need to find the center, to find the balance that keeps my emotions and feelings from becoming overwhelming. Then I can go back to a job that challenges me at every turn, that pushes my every boundary, that demands all of me physically and emotionally.

I can't put into words how much being a nurse can hurt. I also can't imagine doing anything else.