A lot of things have happened
Since the last time we spoke
Some of them are funny
Some of ’em ain’t no joke
“My Thanksgiving” by Don Henley
When the nuns sold my old hospital we told ourselves it would be OK, we would be able to continue the culture of caring and comfort, practicing with skill and compassion. The hospital wasn’t perfect (nothing is) but the core was solid and good.
We were resilient.
It would be OK.
We were close to downtown and many homeless people made their way there; we had a washer and dryer that was put into service most shifts as some arrived cold and wet in the only clothes they owned.
I often worked nights and especially in the winter if we had room we would stash a stretcher in a corner and let someone sleep, sending them out in the morning with a cup of coffee. A statue outside the entrance said it all: Madonna of the Streets. As we were truly non-profit we understood about waste and we ran lean, without compromising patient care. We had not had a raise in five years but we could do our part.
Even though the nuns were leaving, it would be OK.
Except it wasn’t.
We were sold four times in two years and eventually the corporate mentality seeped into the very walls; cold and calculating.
Soul-less.
The place became a shell of its former self.
I handed in my resignation and meandered through resource nursing, management, and private practice, eventually settling into the extraordinary world of oncology nursing.
Repeating Patterns
The point of this telling is that the last few years have felt so similar.
Deadly virus? I have dealt with that before. It will be OK.
My healthcare organization will protect me with the supplies I have been trained to use and they have stewarded resources so there is enough to keep us safe. It will be OK.
Understanding how respiratory disease spreads is simple; it will click with people and we will take care of each other. Our leaders will be a source of comfort, sense, good example and strength. It will be OK.
Except it wasn’t.
And Here We Are
Some sort of resolution to this collective disaster seems to be emerging, though, and I am grateful for what might be a sustained chance to catch my breath.
Humor, a brief spell of good parking and a few writers have gotten me this far.
Lisbeth Darsh and John P Weiss are two of my favorites. Give them a read.
I think of Anne Frank writing “I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart. What is done cannot be undone, but one can prevent it happening again.”
How? Start with not saying mean things to people, especially the ones trying to help you. Avoid those who are mean, both in person and on social media. If they make you feel all ugly and pissy inside, why invite them into your life?
Be the opposite of them and keep it up until your good heart shows again.
Now go out there and do something nice, and if you can’t do something nice, at least don’t be the ugly spot in someone’s day.
That works too.
Gotta start somewhere.
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