A life changer:
I work in the ER. It's my dream job actually. How lucky am I? I have amazing coworkers and friends there. I get to help people and comfort people in the scariest moments of their lives. I feel like I'm making a difference every day, and I love love love it. Most days. Some days are hard. Some shifts are so busy you don't have time to eat, breathe, sit, think, or even pee. Sometimes people are rude, impatient, insensitive, and just plain crazy. Sometimes I get thrown up on, peed on, bled on, you name it, it's probably been on my scrubs/shoes at one point in my ER career. People yell at me, curse at me, cry to me, and thank me. There are so many ups and downs, it's not even funny. One minute you can feel total peace knowing you just helped a sick patient, and the next moment chaos can and will abrupt, and you wonder why you ever ever wanted this job in the first place. I've seen more things than most people see in their Grey's Anatomy episodes. It's made me a better person I think. Plus I have the coolest stories... just ask me! :)
All that being said, the biggest reason I'm thankful for my job is that I get to learn more every day, and it has changed me, I believe for the better.
The other night I had a particularly difficult/traumatizing thing happen to me at work. It's something that a lot of people in the medical field experience, and never hope to experience again. I can't give a lot of details... but I will say that I walked a patient, who seemed fine at the time to the bathroom, and found him later unconscious, not breathing, and blue behind a locked door on the toilet. I called a code blue, we got him on the floor, and I started compressions. I was praying with everything I had that he would survive, and give me his sweet smile again. Unfortunately he did not make it. I did not know him, in fact I spent barely a few minutes with him. I don't even know his last name, how old he was, or why he was alone in the ER that day. I do know though, that I felt somewhat responsible. I walked him there, and I found him there. It's hard to explain, and in no way was it my fault, but that doesn't mean that I didn't rack my brain for ways that I could have done things differently. The truth is, there was nothing I could or would have changed. It was his time to go, he would have died regardless of whether or not he was in the bathroom, or hooked up to all the monitors. I've seen so many people die, I've responded to a lot of code blues. I've done compressions until I couldn't feel my arms anymore, and I've never let it affect me. In our job, you can't. You have to focus on the good things about the job. You can't make it personal, or you will hate your job and start to resent it. I feel like I've done such a good job of separating myself from the horrific, and sad things I see from day to day. Until a few days ago. I left the trauma room and burst into tears. Not the pretty silent ones, or the secret tear you hide. No, the ugly, messy, hysterical tears, the snot running into your mouth kind of tears. I don't know who saw, and I didn't care. Someone came and basically carried me into a private room where I cried for who knows how long. My close friends tried to comfort me, they've all been there. They understand. They told me it wasn't my fault, not to take it personally, but the most important thing they said was it's ok to be sad. I seriously don't think I've ever cried so hard. I just couldn't stop seeing the whole thing play over and over and over again in my head, the images seared in my brain. Luckily I have pretty great coworkers who sent me home early to recover.
My sweet husband Clarke was beside himself. He's never really seen me cry like this. He tried jokes, logic, everything but nothing was helping. I think I traumatized him just a little bit too! He just didn't understand why I was so sad over something that wasn't my fault and couldn't be changed. I compared it to getting in a car accident where the other driver doesn't make it. It obviously wasn't your fault, but it doesn't make you feel any better. Does that make sense?
Anyways, I'm doing much much better now. I've spent a lot of time on my knees, and have come to realize that I have a choice with how I deal. I can choose to be upset forever, and not forgive myself, or I can learn from it. I've chosen to learn from it, and I think I will be better at my job because of it. Life is so short. You never know when someone you love will be taken from you.
In conclusion, I am grateful for the trials Heavenly Father has given me, they have made me a stronger person, I have learned and grown, and become a better person from them. I am grateful for my job, even with all the ups and downs. And even though this particular experience was a hard one for me, I am glad I experienced it. I am humbled, and grateful.
