Astronomy Picture of the Day

Monday, August 12, 2013

There, There, All Better

Really thinking about Mom all day.
Sunday was my day to call her (the past 30 years) or go visit when I lived near them and once I moved out for about the third time.
Intended to continue my interview with a clone series but too tired.
We processed 2 grain sacks of wonderful fresh sweet corn,
mowed the lawn, yada, yada.
So stumbled onto this little piece I did about working in the ICU.
Yes you can and do get attached, some people shock you,
some worse than others.
I worked in ICU 8 years after 10 years med/surg, neuro/neurourg, ent, eye, you name it.
After awhile you develop some thickness to your skin or you and the patient would never survive.
But once in awhile, that moment, often the young ones, would pierce your heart and you would lose it.
And it was OK.

For mom....................................................................................................................................

There, There, All Better

By Mary E. Gerdt

2013 all rights reserved

It hurt.

I hurt.

I had to watch a man die while his family felt a part of them leave. Permanently.

It would have helped if I hated them, if I found some way to despise them and feel they had it coming. But it wasn’t that way at all. I loved them. I only knew them a day and yet I loved them.

They did not deserve this, he did not deserve to die. And that’s when I hurt so bad I started to cry.

I fled the sad room full of now empty wires and sobbing people and one dead man.

I went into the bathroom, turned the water on and sobbed. I did not cry that much when Katie died. So why now?

I needed a vacation, to go somewhere pleasant, by the ocean, in the sun, without all this. I needed to eat and buy useless trinkets with plastic cards, escape.

But here I sat in this frozen place. A sobbing mess of a human with a corpse for a patient and a family I loved who needed me. I filled the sink with cold water and plunged my head in. I blew bubbles and laughed like an infant. Come up for air. “There, There. All better.” I heard my lost mother’s voice.

Now make yourself go out and face them, face the questions, all “Why?”, “What do we do now”, “He isn’t really dead, is he?”.

I hear the responses coming from my mouth as if I and my mouth are separate. “Things happen” (How lame!),

“Make funeral arrangements.” (It will give you something to take your mind off what just happened.)

“Be strong.”, “He is dead”, “ He is gone now.”

“He is not coming back.” (denial a powerful force).

“You must go now.” “Drive safely.” (What if they have a wreck?)

“Would you like some valium?” (no really, never did that but have suggested they call their own doc to get valium.).

“Go home and have a drink. Call a priest. Call your mother, Call God, ask Him Why?”

My inner voice saying, “There, there, all better.”



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