August, 2006 Archive

N: who is this? is this my mother’s nurse?

me: this is May. yes, i’m your mom’s nurse.

N: can you just tell me WHAT’S going on?

me: your mom is waiting for you to pick her up. she was discharged in the afternoon.

N: i know THAT. what i’m asking is her condition. how is she medically, and what happened to her there?

me: from what i got from report and the doctors’ notes, she was referred to a heart specialist and it was suggested that she needs a pacemaker. she is being discharged because she refused the procedure.

N: and you believe her? my mother is not in her right mind. you have no idea how much i love my mother. i love her so much that i wish i can be there with her all the time, but i am a very wanted person, and i cannot just leave my house and sit there next to her. what kind of person would just refuse something that will be good for her? don’t get me wrong, i love my mother very much, but she is not a very smart person. why do i have to find out about this at the time that she is being discharged? she has been there for four days, and i never got a call from anybody from YOUR hospital about what is going on with her. aren’t you paid good there? why is calling a patient’s daughter very hard to do for those who are being paid well? are you paid well? what’s your name again?

me: may.

N: are you not being paid good money to do your job? SO, why are you not doing your job? do you know how much i love my mother? i really do, but she is not a very considerate person. i am always at my wits end because i am taking care of her youngest son, my brother, who is retarded, and needs to be cleaned and fed all the time. he is 40, and my mother gave birth to him when she was 42. what kind of a person would do that? just have a baby without thinking? that is not a very wise thing to do, don’t you think?

me : (i don’t know, i’m confused…do you love your mother or you think you love her?)

N: anyway, why is she blind? why is she having heart problems? why?

me: (ummm…because she…okay, just tell me!)

N: she has the best health insurance coverage, but she is blind. and, she lost all her teeth years ago. why is that? she has good dental coverage, and she has no teeth…why is that? are you still there?

me: yes. i’m still here.

N: i am very upset about all this. my mother is not making things easier for me and for everyone involved in her life. i love her so much. and i’m stuck here doing everything for her, and i am not even being paid to do it. i take care of a retarded man and i am not being paid for it, but i still do my job. how about you there? aren’t you paid good money? why can’t you do your job? i call there everyday, and all i get, is this “your mom is doing okay, her vital signs are within normal, she has been sleeping and eating well…” what does that tell me about her condition?

me: i understand you are frustrated, and i cannot really speak for the nurses who have taken care of your mother in the past days, but if you left a message that you want a phone update about your mom’s condition, our docs usually make that call. if they knew that you have a power of attorney, i’m pretty sure they could have called you about their plan. what i can do for you now, is get the doctor to explain to you what those plans are, and then you can decide what you want to do next.

N: yeah, i am frustrated. anyway, my mother is blind and she lost all her teeth because she didn’t take care of herself. it’s as simple as that. she always wants her way. as i was saying, i have a power of attorney. i want her to have the pacemaker.

me: okay, all you have do is give a copy of that power of attorney to her doctor, so she can have the procedure.

N: what do you mean GIVE A COPY? i don’t carry documents in my pocket like an american express card. it’s in a box somewhere and i am pretty sure i will have no time to look for it. you think i just sit her and watch the time go by? i am a very busy person. i have a business, i have kids, i have grandkids, and don’t forget, i have a borther who my mother thought best to raise without thinking. and then…she will be home tonight.

me: (okay, are you saying you would have been happier if your mom had an abortion? is that what this conversation is all about?)

N: anyway, i want to talk to the doctor. does she even have a doctor? what’s her name? or his? do YOU even know?

me: yeah, her doctor is Dr. L, that’s her name.

N: for sure i have never met her. her name sounds so foreign.

me: what time do you usually come here? because they make their rounds in the morning, and her team is usually here till 5 in the afternoon.

N: go there? are you even listening? i have never been there. i have to take care of a 42 year old retarded man, this house, my kids, my grandkids, and my mother, who, as you might have already noticed, is really a handful, trying to do what she wants, without thinking of other people.

me: okay, when are you coming to pick your mom up? i can arrange for the on call doctor to be here when you come, so you can discuss your concerns about your mom.

N: i’ll be there in an hour, and a doctor SHOULD be there.

me: N, i’ll make sure you talk to the doctor. see you in an hour.

N: yeah, there better be a doctor when i get there.

CLICK.

me: (ouch. bye..)

i’m just saying…why go to a shrink when you can have free, over the phone couch session with your mother’s nurse?

now i know why P, N’s mom, asked me if she can stay.

“you’re not excited to go home?”

“well…i just like it here. is it okay if i eat my dinner before i leave? do you have time to feed me?”

she ate very slowly. when it was time for dessert, i already know about her 6 children, 14 grandchildren, and 20 great grandchildren, whose lives and stories made her voice twinkle.

and for the record, even if she is a blind, teethless, 82 year old woman, she is totally with it and is reasonable about her decision to refuse the pacemaker. but then again, i’m not really an expert in things like that. i’m just a nurse, who is is not doing my job, but is being paid good money.

seriously, i do feel for N, and i do understand why she is conflicted and drained. i wish i have a magic wand and make her resentments, her pains, and her regrets go away, but i don’t. i can only hope that my 10 minute conversation with her made her feel better.

when she finally arrived at midnight, she did everything, but look at me.after talking to the on call doctor, and confirming that she can arrange for the procedure after her mom sees her primary physician, i sent them off.  i stood in the hallway till they disappeared, feeling sorry that i was unable to tell N that she deserves a pat in the back for doing what she is, and has been doing. it’s a pity, because considering what she is going through, a little encouragement and recognition will not do her harm.

i always try to sleep before i go to work. today, instead of trying, i drove to MY park. it is a few miles away from our place. a little park on top of a hill, overlooking a little city. i left the boys playing with my in laws. i wanted a little “me” time, for no particular grand reason, but simply because i am just spoiled and selfish that way.

on  my way, i grabbed 8 books from the library. i expected to be alone, but there was a lady who was reading under a tree, and three toddlers being watched by a woman they called mommy. i  was disappointed, but it was beyond my control. i called it MY park because i feel like i own it, but that is not really true. it is actually a public park where i often take my kids to, even before they were born.

fay weldon said…”motherhood is to guilt as grapes are to wine”, i closed the book, thought about that line, and analyzed how true it is in my life sometimes. then, i dozed off. it must have been a few minutes of unconsciousness, which was interrupted, when i heard what seemed like a little heated exchange of words. then, a loud, angry, “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT ME TO DO? I HAVE A WIFE, AND YOU ARE JUST MY GIRLFRIEND!?!”

i opened my eyes and saw a couple, about twenty feet away from me. the guy was sitting on the picnic table, his back in front of her. she was on the bench, looking up at him. the guy saw me look up, so the rest of their conversation became muffled, but still palpably heated.

the breeze was perfect, but i cannot go back to dreamland after overhearing a question like that. i imagined the guy going home to his wife tonight, telling her he had a boring lunch at work, when in fact he was at MY park, arguing with his angry girlfriend. “LIAR!” i told him under my breath. how dare him! i was surprised at the anger i felt for this guy, in behalf of his wife, who i imagined was overworked, and was overwhelmed with household responsibilities. i don’t know where it comes from, but my imagination is limitless when it comes to things like these. i would not even call it empathy, because honestly, it has no logical basis.

all of a sudden, i felt extremely hungry. i drove to nearest grocery store. got a 20 ounces diet pepsi to start with,  a six piece pack of california roll, a small pack of chicken jerky, and a pint of  ben and jerry. i returned the ben and jerry, after remembering that my tonsils are still slightly swollen from the small piece of baby ruth i ate at work two nights ago.

i went back to MY park, and was greeted by the careless laughter of the couple who ten minutes ago were at each other’s throat. they had definitely kissed and made up, were in a sweet, romantic embrace, whispering and laughing alternately. “LIAR!” i said under my breath, then i sat down to eat. the jerky was 95% fat free, but it has 950 million grams of sodium. the california rolls was spicy, and filling, but i ate all of it without thinking. as usual, diet pepsi quenched and satisfied.

i gathered my trash and paused. for some unknown reasons, i remembered yesterday’s lunch. with fish and rice, we also had salad. my little ones, just like most of the kids i know, do not want it. except of course, some of it. croutons for the older one, and olives for the younger one. we ended up fishing these for them, but they were not satisfied. the younger one was asking for more olives, but i firmly said no, smartly and authoritatively telling him how salty it was, and that he had enough. the older one knew better, and stopped asking for more croutons after i told him no for the third time.

looking at the empty bag of the sodium coated jerky, and the empty pepsi bottle, it dawned on me that i was no different from the man i self righteously called a liar. i lie to my kids. i eat healthy  in front of them, and do otherwise behind them. i lie to my husband. i tell him it does not bother me that i do not understand what his plans are, but in truth it drives me crazy. i lie to my in laws. i say it is good that they have time to look after the kids, but most of the times, i hate it that i do not have a say in some of the things i consider important when it comes to disciplining my own kids.

i lie everyday, and i have the audacity to call somebody a liar without flinching, like i am far better than him. the truth is, we speak the same language. i tell a different kind of lie, but a liar just the same. somehow, we are on different planes, but on the same ground.

i packed up my stuff, just after the couple got up. his hand around her shoulder, hers around his waist. they headed to their car, giggling. “LIAR!” i said under my breath, this time to myself.

this realization hit me hard to the point of losing my mood to go to work, but life is such…you go to work even if good mood does not go with you.

so, i’m off to work tonight, ready to lie again. i will tell a patient “it will be okay” when maybe, it will never be.

we did it because not doing it is not even an option. where i grew up, it is just done. to every male. period. decades ago, it was done by one old person without any medical training whatsoever, to boys ages 7-12.  later, the choice of having it done in the hospital anytime came up.

i admit we did not even do a research if it has medical/physical benefits or disadvantages. i admit we never thought it was something our boys have a say about. i admit that as a mother, i actually thought it was best that they have it early, when they have no complete awareness of the experience, than have it later, when there are social reactions or opinions to deal with. i admit that i never thought they will actually decide against it, and by doing it early, i spared them a lot of trouble, and therefore, i am doing it at their best interest.

i admit our decision was mainly based on culture, no more no less. i am a christian, but that is not why we did it.

i admit we just went ahead without much thought about how our boys will think or believe in the future. now, i know that some people are thinking we “just played God” by cutting off a part of our boys’ bodies, but believe me, that is so far away from the truth.

i’m talking about circumcision. and yes, i am telling the world we had both our kids circumcised before they came home from the hospital, when they were both a week old. yes, i cried at the thought of them being cut and having pain, but it never occured to me not to have it done. and yes, i thought it was just the paranoid and overprotective mother in me who worried about the pain, when i saw that either of them didn’t really flinch more when i cleaned them post procedure, more than they flinched when i  cleaned them after they pooped.

now, i may live in guilt for the rest of my life. with all the issues coming out of nowhere, as pointed out by one of the blogosphere’s respected pediatricians, other people now view my decision as questionable, and my intentions as debatable. it is never an issue in the philppines, where i came from, but it is an issue here, where the kids were born.

i now live in fear that somewhere in the future, one of my boys will come home, furious and eternally resentful that we did not wait till they reach the age of reason and let them decide what they want with their penises.

will telling my kids we did it because it is the only and best thing know about male babies when they were born be enough? will telling them i and their father decided on instinct and culture when we had it done be explanation enough? will they accept it to be reasonable, that we honestly thought that we were doing them a favor, would that be enough?

another respectable blogger/physician who happened to be a filipino pointed out very clearly that culture is reason enough. will that reasoning be enough for our kids? will they forgive us and say, “well…dad, mom, we hated it that you just thought about yourself and your culture, but we understand you now, and we are happy you did  something to remind us where we really came from.”

the idea that some people who don’t agree with our decision bothers me somehow, but it is not something i can’t handle. their animosity and judgment i can live with. however, the thought that my kids will hate me for the rest of their lives because i decided to do what i thought was best at the time i made that decision scares and pains me beyond words. meanwhile, there is no other way but to hope they will accept our explanations wholeheartedly in the future.

i don’t know, but it is in my best interest that i think this happy ending is possible. after all, i cannot undo what we have done, and i cannot live in guilt everyday and still be an effective parent.

she wowed me with her exciting stories. i remember listening to her with my mouth open, thinking she was so awesome. i thought what she was doing was so incredible, that at an early age of five, i decided i wanted to be like her when i grow up.

my eldest sister was just in her last year of nursing school back then. already, she had all those endless, interesting stories. i never got tired of listening to her, and i spent a lot of times imagining myself in that crisp, white dress and that cap. “it is undescribable when you see you have done something to help someone, there is just no way to describe it”, she said. i tried putting myself into her shoes, but i didn’t really understand.

the moment i started doing my clinicals, and had my first encounter with patients, i knew.

i know that this is the place where i want to be, and these are the things that i want to do. the days of white dresses and caps are long gone, but the spirit of nursing is the same, and i had no doubt in my mind that i want it. that human connection after every patient-nurse interaction is indeed indescribable. it is difficult to accurately define the positive effects of all productive experiences, but that fact did not stop me from pursuing it. i know what i want, and i want to be there.

i want to give somebody a bath when they have no strength to do it on their own. i want to hold somebody’s hand, when they loose their balance. i want to listen to somebody who’s scared about their future. i want to listen to somebody who’s terrified about the unknown. i want to sit with somebody who knows the end is near. i may not always know what to do or say, but i know that if they need someone there, i want to be there.

i want to be there, to make a difference.

when i finish a shift and i know that i have been compassionate, it makes me happy. if i have given comfort by cleaning a patient, it satisfies me. in a sense, it completes me, because i know i am here for a reason. i may be an unidenfiable nothing in this immeasurable universe, but at one point in time, when i have done something for my patients and their families, i feel great. i had a dream i will help other people and touch their lives, but always, patients help me see things in a different way, and they end up touching my life. i am often humbled by this.

i am definitely living my dream and i should not complain, but for the past weeks, i have done nothing else.

i am always tired and it’s beginning to annoy me. i am caught in between getting that high of being able to give, and that low of getting sick because my body cannot cope. i have been advised to leave my unit and transfer to a place where there is not much repositioning, lifting, and cleaning up. and for almost three years now, i ignored everyone.

i love my job and i love working with majority of the people i work with. i won’t deny that there are a lot of times that i complain, mostly about my frustrations towards some of us who know nothing about caring or going the extra mile, but that does not mean i want to give up. there are patients and families whose attitude push me to the edge and demand more than the patience i can muster, and i will not be hypocritical about it and say that they warm my heart, because they don’t, but that doesn’t mean i hate what i do.

most of the times, on my way home from work, i have this smile on my face, and my heart is full. in a perfcet world, nothing else should matter. in reality, there is a catch…that kind of joy requires a price. in this case, a painful back, and a battered set of aching legs.

what do you do when are living your heart’s desire, but your body disagrees?

this is THE question. an ever present nagging thought i have ignored for quite a while now. this time, it is getting louder, and i am afraid that pretty soon, ignoring it will not be an option.

i am happy, but worn out. i am fulfilled, but tired. i am a satisfied soul trapped in a complaining, unsatisfied body. should i stop whining? or is my body telling me something?

my work lifts my spirit. my work drains my body. there is a debate, and sadly, each side has a valid point. personally, both are important. what do you do when a part of you contradicts another part of you?

which part do you listen to?