Wow. It's been a minute since I've written anything. Maybe that's because I have NO life and no time. Nursing school is wearing me out-- some days are good, some days are bad. I can say one thing: the past few months have made me doubt myself more than I have in a long time. To go from something I'd done well for a decade to something that I am pretty darn clueless...well, that's just tough. I went from being the teacher to the student.
I am overwhelmed. I feel hopeless at times. I feel incompetent sometimes. But I also seem to get just enough air, just enough reassurance, that I continue to breathe and move on. I put 100% into school and I feel like I'm neglecting my family. I spend time with family or friends and I'm stressing over all the school work that I'm not focusing on. Bleh. I have had several moments where I think 'maybe this isn't it'. I want to be GOOD at something; I want to find my calling and excel. (It doesn't help being the sister of someone who is fantastic at so many things....Dave is a master of many things: running, teaching, playing any instrument on Earth.) I want to be a fantastic nurse. And maybe I will one day; right now, though, I feel pretty dern clueless.
I realized recently how important the eyes are.
I was listening to a CD from our church the other day, and this song hit me:
Although the storms may come
I won't be 'whelmed by the flood.
And although the waters they rise,
Won't pass my chin, won't reach my eyes...
Because you are with me
Always...
When I was in my first C section with Trafton, Chris sat beside me throughout the procedure. To say I was nervous was an understatement. I'd never had a true panic attach until that night. I couldn't breathe, I was crying uncontrollably, and I couldn't stop shaking. I remember asking the anesthesiologist to hold my other hand. I looked up and a man in a mask was inches from my face. All I could see were his eyes and I knew immediately that it was my husband. "Hey, stay with me. Look at me, look at my eyes. I'm here" he said. God is saying the same now. I AM HERE. I am so many things for you-- comforter, healer, encourager. Even when things suck, the waters won't reach my eyes and overwhelm me.
I had a patient this week who had a history of strokes. He could not communicate verbally or follow simple commands. Up until this point, I had worked with patients who could talk to me. Some more than others. (I may have even forgotten to do something because I got so wrapped up in conversation with a patient....imagine that, me being talkative! Ha.) Even if they weren't chatty, they could still tell me if they felt pain, nausea, etc. So this week threw me for a loop. I was nervous from the get-go. I realized though, he did have a way of communicating with me: his eyes. The first day I was working with him, he had a lack of interest. His eyes told me that he didn't want to work, he didn't want us poking/prodding him. He wanted to be left alone. He would keep them closed when different team members entered the room. (The second his daughter walked in, though? WIDE awake. She commanded his attention without even trying. That's how daughters work!)
The second day, I noticed a change. He was "tracking" more; that is, he would follow me around the room more with his eyes. They looked softer almost, like he was loosening up with me just a bit. Maybe he was beginning to trust me?? Hard to say. By the end of the day, I told him that I'd like to clean his mouth out. I met his eyes and asked him if he could open his mouth for me. Fully expecting no response, I almost squealed when he followed my directions. Mouth open, his eyes continued to look at me. Might seem minimal to some, but my inner cheerleader went crazy.
I feel like God is handing me little moments like this to sustain me. The waters are certainly rising but they haven't quite reached my eyes. I am still breathing, still treading water.
