Then, there are things
I hope I NEVER forget...
Knowing I work with an amazing tribe of nurses
and techs and respiratory therapists and
radiology staff and environmental (And! And!
And!) who rose – and continue to rise to the
challenge; every day in every way.
Seeing the teamwork and comradery as we shout
or whisper or knock for what we need ... the “ask”
is always answered.
Hearing the private conversations between our
patients and their loved ones who grasp just how
precious each brief opportunity is to express how
they feel.
Cheering for someone whose life could have gone
either way as they are wheeled to fresh air and
freedom.
Hearing the music overhead, signaling more as a
fight song than a single victory.
The weary, tearful, grateful look of joy as a
coworker enjoys her first hot cup of coffee she can
APPRECIATE, without toiling in chaos in WEEKS.
The brief time we take to stop and reflect on our
deeply shared experience. To check on each other,
and comfort each other, and find humor in pain.
Finding time (and strength) to wash and comb
someone’s hair. Clean every inch of their body.
Massage, cushion, position. Chat cheerfully
without reply. Clean up a disaster of a room.
Update a grateful family and hold the phone to
their ear so they can listen to their loved one. And
then, just as I turn the handle to open the door to
leave – hear a squeaked out “thank you.”
Witnessing a series of last rites/prayers via
Facetime. Surrounded by people of all faiths and
walks of life ...all stopping for a moment to listen.
Pray. Add wishes of comfort. Thanking the priest
in unison and receiving an emotional prayer for
safety in return. Humans can be beautiful.
The precious conversations/texts with people from
every chapter in my book, who share a little piece
of themselves, a little worry, a little gratitude, a
little light. And the generosity of some who send
gifts to help protect me during a time when they
understandably could just protect themselves.
Seeing which beloved physicians are truly the
tireless heroes we always knew they were.
Walking on every unit, every day, into every room
without complaint and still wearing a sad sprinkle
of a smile under their mask. Even when deeply
grieving their own fresh loss … And in stark
contrast, which ones actively shirked the danger
and delegated the risk.
Knowing I work for one of the “good ones” in this
country. Forward thinking, sense of community,
protective of staff...actively trying to be better
every day and serve both their community and
employees.
Also, knowing I have a direct leader with insight,
knowledge, compassion, humor, and hands on –
deep in her core – kick-ass integrity.
I hope we all get the opportunity to grow from this
experience. To be a little less selfish.
To remember our tenuous links to each other
during tragedy should be honored once this
shadow lifts. To learn from our mistakes and
remember what’s important. And I hope we have
the resiliency to forget what weakens us, and
remember what gives us life.
CHILTON MAGAZINE SPRING 2020