As I walk contemplatively through the hallways of tears, confusion, and heartbreak, I hear whispers and dreams that once were alive-- that once were in motion, but now have been silenced by the years.
I have noticed that some of my colleagues have found a certain joy in caring for these people, but as for me, I have continually found it to be very sad and rather depressing. I have tried to "talk" myself into enjoying the work, and I've tried to put on a smile when assisting residents with ADLs and extra activities, but all I find myself doing is feeling sorry. I have been learning a great deal of clinical skills, and my nursing proficiency has increased during this clinical rotation, but I also feel that I have not found much joy. I do find satisfaction in making the residents happy, and it isn’t the residents who sadden me, but it is the loss of their dreams that drown my heart in tears.
I see people who once were joyful and full of life, but now are being treated like babies; they are fed and have scheduled times when they will go to “activities” that they are expected to enjoy. I see people who once had dreams and expectations. I see people who once had a best friend. I see people who once laughed. I see people who once cared and once loved.
But it’s as if a thief suddenly robbed them of all their possessions.
The dreams that they once had are now forgotten, meaningless, and are only whispers that they sometimes mumble in our ears. The friends and family that they once knew are now strangers. The sounds of laughter that once came from these people are now replaced with cries of confusion, anger, and dismay. The people they once cared for and once loved have abandoned them, and their hearts don’t understand. They are lost.
Now essentially, my job as a nurse is to use my skills to care for and bring back health to these aged bodies, but I find myself only doing that much for them. Anything else I do doesn’t seem to bring back the dreams and the joy that they once had. I cannot give back their lost possessions, and all I can do is try to help maintain their health until God decides their time is up.
As I walk contemplatively through these hallways of tears, confusion, and heartbreak, I hear myself crying inside for these people. I realize one day my dreams and my hopes and my joys will only be a whisper that I will mumble into somebody's ear. But gladly and fortunately, I can hope, and I can know that after those years have passed, and my aged body has rested, and I have breathed my last breath, I will be in the care of my Heavenly Father who will whisper more than just dreams into my ear.
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Death is painless for those that know what happens after the physical blockade is removed from what will be a better and everlasting life. But, again, for some. Others aren't sure (agnostic) or just gave up caring. For a moment, I put myself in one of their shoes, and I experienced sadness that I wouldn't know what happens in twenty thirty years. But, then, what made me contempt was the fact that my time was soon and that mean't that I would finally touch the Hands that bore the nails and worship the face of Jesus and exalt God. It makes me want to just continue doing what I can to have people see me, watch me and learn from me. Hahah, who am I, but if I help someone change their life, that one life was so worth it, it means one more win for God and one less win for the Adversary.
I was inspired the other day riding a bus to Bellevue when the bus driver noticed a book I had in my hand. I intended to read it during the long bus ride, I say long because if you ever ride the bus you know that there's a lot of stops here and there. He knew the book, called The Shack by William Young.
I mentioned to him that I hear from great sources that it answered a lot of questions on Christianity and my desire to learn from it. He then proceeded to tell me how there's this one student from Northwest University who strictly boards the bus to witness to people. All she does is ride the bus and share the gospel, talk about fire. I asked for her name, and he couldn't remember but he called it a beautiful thing she did.
First off, talk about multi-tasking! School, possibly work and sharing the Word of God. Anyway, it's people like her, unfortunately rare, who knows that the last days are.......now, they are here, and it's time to get serious.
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