March, 2006 Archive

C is going through an ugly divorce.

not that any divorce ever gets pretty, but when custody of kids and the possibilty of bankcruptcy are very real, it makes it more difficult.

C was one of my preceptors when i started. he let me do my thing, and told me to just holler when i need his help. he was quiet, so i thought he was bored, and boring.

then one day, on the board where staff put up all sorts of pictures from pets, to lovers, to kids, i saw a picture of three happy kids. “C’s kids” it said.

the next time i worked with him, i told him his kids are cute, and that his boy looked like that little boy in the movie Jerry Mcguire. as expected, he did not know what i was talking about, but the mention of his kids made his eyes twinkle. he started talking about each one. how they crack him up, how tiring but fulfilling it is to take care of them. he told me he was trying to save up some money so he can start a business so he can be at home most of the times and not work 12 hour shifts. i left him imagining his blissful future, with his kids, 2, 4, and 6 year olds, hanging on to him all day at home while he was selling filtered water.

turned out, he was not bored or boring, he was excited about some little people: his kids.

last year, he moved to colorado, bought a house on a 35 acre land. he was beaming when he showed me the pictures of what he called their little paradise. they have their own little lake, the deers are their neighbors. the kids and his wife loved it. he could not ask for anything more.

a few months later, he was back in the unit, as a traveller RN. “pay sucks in colorado”, he said.

last thursday, (his last day as a traveller) while i was giving report to him, one of the nurses joked about him still wearing his wedding ring. that was when i found out about the on going divorce.

C was pretty apathetic about his wife, who he said, started “buying stuff for her son from a previous marriage, with money we didn’t have”.

they say the three major reasons for divorce are sex, money and in-laws. even without the details, C made it clear that sex and in-laws were not the issues.

i asked about his kids. they are 3, 5, and 7 years old now.

“the kids appear clueless, but i know they know. all i’m after is at least a 50-50 custody, but she is doing everything do make that near to impossible.”

it was heartbreaking to watch this big guy waste away. i didn’t say anything, because i really didn’t know what to say. before i said goodbye, i told him i don’t know how things like these work out, but i hope it will work out eventually for him, and for his kids.

i went home haunted by C’s shaky voice.

all weekened, i was flooded with all sorts of thoughts.

i thought of how amazing it is that nurses go to work, smile, take care of hurting people, appearing unaware of their own pains. how nurses professionally put themselves aside, completely ignoring their own worries and fears while assuring a scared patient awaiting the unknown.

i thought of how unbelievably resilient the human mind or spirit is. how it lets one separate self from work, not only to continue to get that paycheck, but to stand true to the idea that there is real joy and meaning in helping other people.

i thought of how the heart can be such an incomprehensible thing sometimes. how one learns to love someone with all their life and slowly, turn that love into something undefinably vindictive.

i thought of how one copes with emotional blows like these. how one gets all his acts together and convince himself that although this feels like it is the end of the world, it really isn’t. how one talks himself into believing that in the end, it doesn’t matter that you do not smell and see that same face you’ve smelled and seen for years anymore, because change is an essential part of life, and change, is inevitable.

i thought of the kids. where they get their strength, and how will they handle this change.

i thought of how such a common thing like divorce, considering its reality, can break someone like that and magnify all the little things.

i thought of all the things that made sense…

…and divorce is not one of them.

that’s what they call this new basic medicine unit.

it opened a few months ago, and i have been floating for almost three weeks now, but last night was the first time i actually set foot on this new famous place.

in line with the new thing of being in a healing environment, the goal is to make the unit look like anything but a hospital.

there are pictures of hills and valleys and flowers that will prompt one to start singing…”the hills are alive…”. the walls are painted with soothing colors. plasma screen tv, ergonomically designed chairs, keyless access to all supplies and meds. paper towels, bactericidal cream, hand soap, are all dispensed automatically. fancy lamps. brand new computers. and staff who are wearing solid scrubs that are supposed to promote a sense of calm, and initiate release of healing energy to possess every patient.

everything fascinated me, because everything was new and different.

the patients however are a totally different story. they are not new, they are not different.

two are extremely yellow, not because they want to match the healing environment. one was confused and screamed to be left alone for the whole night, not because she feels the surge of the healing energy. and two wanted dilaudid and phenergan, not because my scrub was not solid and soothing.

so yeah, it looked like a five star hotel. and yeah, the patients are still sick.

i guess that makes it look like the “healing environment” is way overrated. or i am just boringly cynical.

she didn’t know she pooped.

since it was the kind of poop that usually happens when patients don’t know they pooped, the pads were soaked, and the bed sheet needed to be changed. i had to get somebody to help me.

she was almost 500 pounds, and was unable to move by herself. there was me, and another filipina nurse. i don’t have to elaborate how challenging it was to clean her up.

while pulling the bed sheet from underneath her, the other nurse kept telling me to sort of do it faster, because she can’t hold on much longer, and the patient was being pushed onto the siderails. i said “it’s hard” three times. it was hard to pull the sheet, that’s what i meant.

when she was all clean and settled, i asked her if she needed anything else.

“no, i just want to let you know, that i have been here for a while and you are the very first one…”

i felt a little warm inside. i was ready to be thanked, and i was eager for the compliments. after all, i reasoned with my humongous ego that after sweating my butt off doing all those things for her, a little pat on the back won’t hurt.

“…who totally made me feel like a completely worthless person…”

say that again?

“…you know, i have cancer, and i can’t help it. if i can do it myself, i will not ask you to do anything for me. i will do it myself and not bother you. you don’t have to say hurting words like that.”

okay. in seconds, i tried to press the replay button, and watched where i messed up and said hurtful things. since the video in my mind wasn’t that clear, i politely apologized, and asked her to refresh my memory.

“…it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? you have already hurt me, and i just feel so bad.”

i didn’t know what it was, but her tone made me feel like crying. her vindictive voice made me want to go home and take care of patients who weighed much lighter than her. i was overwhelmed with a sense of self pity. i was thinking all sorts of negative things. it depressed me that i had such a big need to be complimented. it depressed me that i sometimes think it’s just about me.

i wanted to cry but did not have the luxury of time and privacy to do it.

so i bit my lips, gathered my wits together and told her i have no idea what i have said or done that extremely offended her. since she doesn’t want to let me know, i told her i had no intention of hurting her in any way, but since i already did, i sincerely apologize.

i was about to leave when she finally filled me in.

“you kept saying “it’s hard”. i know it’s hard to do things for me, but do you have to rub it in and say it in my face?”

i explained that i meant pulling the sheet. i explained, but she repeatedly said she felt bad. i explained, but she emphasized I made her feel bad. i explained, but she concluded it was just so bad. i gave up with the explanations, and concluded with further apologies.

she won’t have any of it.

it is not easy to reason with a person who feels like the whole world is trying to make her life miserable. she lost her husband a few months ago. she lost her mom a couple of months before that. she has two kids, one autistic. the other one, her sister would not take to the hospital to see her because she feels it is not good for him to see his mother in her sick state. then the cancer.

i totally get all that.

but still.

it is not easy to be “accused” of being mean. she made it sound like i go to work just to make sure i hurt at least one person.

obviously, i have issues.

i apologize. this is totally personal.

to be honest, i am utterly surprised that it was not on the news.

i mean, IT. IS. BIG.

for the first time, without being told or asked to, the little guy aimed, and managed to actually pee in the potty! i mean, approximately 50 ml of real, clear, yellowish, stinking urine! i could have sent a sample to the lab just to document it was the real thing, or i could have tasted it. but i let the smell and color proove its authenticity, because at present, i actually don’t know how urine is supposed to taste. it doesn’t count that i have had one sip of beer in my entire life, and i never had another, because i said it tasted like urine. how i knew then, i have no clue.

you must think this is something petty. well, it must be, if we are talking about other three year olds. you see, i have already told family and friends, specifically those who are annoyingly pushy about the whole thing, that he is not potty trained YET, on purpose. “we’re doing it so he will never get married”, i told them . because let’s face it, even if he grows up to be as good looking as george clooney or something, who would seriously date a 25 year old guy in diaper? yeah, it was our intention to keep him close to us and use him to make us feel needed.

it was a good way to shut some people up, especially those who imply that a kid not potty trained yet at three is a proof of a good for nothing mom. i will nicely accept the label “lazy”, but no, i can’t take “good for nothing” with a smile. i am still innocent until proven guilty.

in simple words, after trying most, if not all of the training tips in the books, and the advise of all the moms out there, we sort of have given up on the potty training thing. whoever told you that nurses are patient people, are big fat liars. we gave up after six months of trying, we are both nurses, who are very impatient parents.

in this whole drama of frustration and guilt, a five foot angel with curly hair and a very calm voice, comforted us. he let our son hold the koala in his stethoscope, and assured us it was normal for kids with siblings (our other little guy is 18 months) who are still in diapers to be pottty trained late. i heart you dr. R! i just do. you are the best pediatrician ever!

anyway, you should have seen me when this whole situation happened. i was on the verge of tears! i hugged and kissed him a million times, and told him how proud i was of him. you would think my son just got the notice from the nobel prize committee, that they want to have the honor of his presence so they can recognize his ingenuity, after he invented a flying car that uses garbage for fuel! i was beyond myself in happiness. really, it was madness. plain and simple.

he’s got this mischievous yet questioning look, like he was asking what he has done in his past life to deserve such a melodramatic mom. well, that look could also mean it was just a one time thing and he will be back to not peeing in the potty for the next year or two again. it could mean sticking to plan A…of him not being potty trained till he is 25! gods of potty, help us.

so, being a parent drives one over the edge of reason. i have been warned, but i did not take it seriously. i still don’t get the scientific explanation why i was ecstatic about my son knowing how to hold his penis and aiming it to pee on the potty, but yeah, i just feel euphoric! and don’t even ask me how he got to be so smart that he knew he needed to wipe the little drops of urine that didn’t make it when he aimed. it is beyond me either. of course, it could be an early sign of OCD, but i’ll worry about that later.

anyway, so what is the big deal about this whole peeing in the potty by himself thing? why did it put me in a state of unexplainable joy? like i can almost talk about nirvana even to the devout buddhists without feeling like a complete fraud.

it must be the $29.99 monthly saving from now on…could use that for a monthly massage instead, right? maybe that’s it.