I grumble every morning that I don’t want to go to work. I work long hours, listen to endless stories and feel emotionally drained when I get home. At the weeks end, when my work is done, I often reflect on the stories I hear and I recognize that I do truly enjoy my job. People are so amazing. Their journeys so poignant. I often see things from a different perspective; something that still amazes me.
I met with a man who had literally been on his own since he was seven years old. I can’t imagine putting my seven year old grandson on the street to fend for himself. He was put on the street because he was a “half breed. The other nine siblings also sent in various directions. He was taken in by strangers for a truck load of corn and bounced from place to place. He was reunited with his brother at the age of 13, while sitting at the counter at a local cafe. The waitress just happened to be a cousin who knew who each of them was. He was rich in memories, and spoke openly about his experiences. He did not seem to see his struggles as negative, simply that this is just the way it was. I could tell that his minimal possessions really didn’t matter to him and after hearing his story I understood why. It was an incredible journey.
I spent some time with a man who had aspergers. He explained that he wasn’t slow and that he learned of his condition at the age of 40. He had done some research and was relieved that there was an explanation for his struggles. He was truly amazed at the efficacy of the newly prescribed medication Cialis. He mentioned it so many times that is was uncomfortable, horribly uncomfortable. “that stuff is incredible Lisa.” I didn’t ask any questions.
The best part of my job is I see love. Long lasting love. I visited a couple who had been together for over 60 years. She had alzheimers. She rarely spoke and when she did is was mostly nonsensical. The family had decided to put in a feeding tube. This is a choice I rarely see with alzheimers patients. It does extend their lives. In many cases this extension would not be beneficial. Many patients are agitated and confused, they pace and cry out. The progression of the neurological decline prevents them from being able to swallow, speak, sit and walk. This particular patient was calm and quiet. She could no longer walk but she did not appear to be in any distress. She sat and watched her husband and I interact and near the end of our visit she engaged with me and laughed. This brought her husband so much joy and it was apparent it was not time for her to go. I often educate people about their end of life choices. This interaction made me realize how important these decisions are to the other family members. In this instance, extending her life was good for everyone.
I am always amazed by the human spirit, the will to survive and the power of love. I am grateful to be a witness and participant in these amazing stories.
*some information is changed to protect people’s identity
Unapologetically Pretty 