Tears

I cried today for the first time in almost a year. For those of you who are close to me, you know that I have difficulty crying. It is not that I don't feel emotion, I do. I just have a difficult time embracing the vulnerability of a good cry. The ugly face, the audible sighs, the release of an uncontrolled spell. I want to cry. I even try to cry sometimes because I know it will make me feel better, but that NEVER works.

I cried today because of a patient. She didn't die, nor is she well, but I suppose I have grown rather fond of her in my heart.

I first met L* my second day on the unit. She was the patient that had part of her colon removed, a seemingly simple procedure, but the doctor messed up and punctured a portion of the intestine higher than he was supposed to. This resulted in complications and simultaneously, more surgeries. A three day in-and-out turned into a 30 day journey. She wasn't even allowed to drink water or suck on ice for the longest time.

The first time I cared for her, I had heard from the other nurses that she was a "diva." She had tattooed eyebrows and eyelashes, fake breast, manicured nails, perfect bob haircut, and was 63 years old. All of this aside, she was quite helpless looking with three tubes draining from her abdomen, a tube down her nose, a foley catheter for urine, and a newly placed colostomy bag (this is basically a poop bag outside of your body). She was very weak and dependent, but still sweet with a strong presence. As I spent time with her, I got to know her hobbies, occupation, likes, and dislikes. I learned how she loved the beach, gardening, a quiet home, and spending time with her children and grandchildren. She was once a high school teacher, then a principal, and now a college professor in education. She was divorced too. I don't know why, but we took to one another. She would ask me about my weekends, my decorating plans for my apartment, life dreams, or what I had for dinner. I enjoyed our time and I looked forward to helping her.

Today I found out that her family had decided to transfer her to another hospital. They have not been happy with their doctor group (I can't say I don't blame them, he did after all mess up), and wanted to move her to a hospital where they felt she would have a better medical advocate. L promised that the nursing care here was "superior" and told her family members and frieds that I was her favorite or that she had "just been talking about me." I often felt like she was speaking of me as a proud mother would talk about her daughter, sharing about my character and accomplishments. As I provided care for her the last time today, she told me that I was very special and blessed me. Right before she left, I walked over to her bed and told her I would miss seeing her. With that, she tenderly grabbed my hand, looked into my eyes, thanked, and wished me luck in life. I started to tear up in her room, but tried to smile. I quickly spun towards the door because I didn't want her family (including her x-hubby) to see me and forced a smile. I think I may have even tried to laugh. I took deep breaths and went to a bathroom in an empty room to let myself cry a little. A few big heaves with drops that filled the creases of my eyes, and I had collected myself again.

I am not sure why I was affected by this woman so much. Perhaps it was because I saw a glimpse of myself in her... independent and driven with perfectionist tendencies. Yet at the same time her heart was gentle, and she was scared. Today as I asked her what she was thinking, she said she couldn't believe this happened to so few people and yet it had happened to her. For the very first time I could see how afraid and vulnerable she felt.

L told me I "would receive for what I gave," little does she know how much she opened my heart. I weep the tears that she cannot cry, and that is the most beautiful gift of all.