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Long Waits & Spring Rain

March 12, 2010

I’ve wished no less than 100 people a happy Friday.  A good weekend.  See you Monday.  And for some reason it’s still a surprise when I get home soaking wet from my bicycle ride that I need to write a post.  It’s Friday.  It’s blog time!

Plus, I’m not feeling inspired.  Not really.  Here is where the creation changes the master.  The well of inspiration calls.  No more sitting on the couch with a bowl of carbohydrates.  It’s time to look my week in the face and see what was there.  Break it into manageable chunks and feel good about it.  This is what the hard part feels like.  I’m going to take this week’s inspiration from Emergency Room Nurses.

Wednesday I spent 12 hours sitting in emergency with Mr. Waters.  I had only managed 3 hours of sleep after tossing and turning.  At 5 am he said he needed to go to the hospital  and away we went.
The day was long and painful.  We weren’t checked on frequently early in our visit, then there was the first Cardiogram, then the second.   Then finally a blood test.  And we waited 2 hours for a blood test to come back .  Then another Cardiogram.  And then 3 hours for a chest CT.  And then being moved around the building slowly.  Waiting for the results and the waiting.  And the waiting.  Then a final, “Go home.”
We sat in intermediate care longer than anyone else that day.  We saw drunks and old women who only spoke Spanish.  We saw young girls who coughed and smoked and complained loudly about needing to see the doctor.  And we waited.  We saw the utmost patience.  We saw struggles.  We saw security strapping a teenage boy to a bed.  We saw his mother.

There were the nurses who bustled about between beds seventeen through twenty-eight.  The nurses, both women and men who wielded their pens and their stethoscope and took blood and filled in charts and did what they could while we all waited for the doctor, the radiologist, the results.

As much as I know that the nurses are there, being paid, employed… This is their job. It’s just that it seems like such a hard job.  A career made of balancing medical skill, diplomacy, care and tenderness in words and strength in words.  Navigating through a hazy mind to connect to understanding.

So I am inspired to balance myself when I am at home after a long day at work and a long, cold bicycle ride home.  I can find balance within myself.  If only I take a moment to breathe in the cold, spring air.  I can be diplomatic, I can care and be tender.  I can choose my words, my tones and fight the battles I can win and know when to give things over to bigger powers.  I can choose to breathe deeply and know I am alive.   I can breathe in the cold air, the spring rain and know I am alive.  I am alive.


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