I’ve been working at the hospital as an intern for 6 weeks now and there are some faces that I cannot seem to get out of my head.
There are patients I visit that stay with me for weeks on end. I remember the face of the woman that was run over by a car, I remember her family and the conversation and the prayers we shared. I remember the face of the man who died in hospice and the love family that filled the room and the words and prayers we shared. I remember the face of the woman who had last rights.
I remember the face of man who died this week and the family that was with him. Their faces, their stories stay with me.
There are times where I wish I could get their faces out of my head. Times when the residents at the hospital say that the families they are there for remember their faces but they forget them. I’m not sure how they do that.
Even if my conversation was brief and the person lived I still remember them. It has to be the mind that God gave me. It must be the compassion that lives inside of me.
Almost everyone in my group is certain that is is the kind of work that they want to continue to do. It’s not mine. I can be there for these people, in their moments of deep pain and anguish or in times of crisis but I cannot stay with them for long.
The entire time I sit with families or talk with patients I am trying to escape, trying to leave, trying to finish the job so that I can go back where I feel safe.
It’s hard to tell people how I am doing because most of the time I am separate from it unless it comes along and slaps me in the face.
I feel broken and bruised and I’m not. My schedule is brutal. Today was my first day off in a while. A day where I didn’t have to go anywhere. A day when the world wasn’t pressing down on me and no one was demanding anything from me. I felt free today. I felt like I got my feet under me and now that I have had this day I can go on, I can gather the strength and courage to go on.
This schedule is brutal but sometimes I am thankful for it. I don’t have time to sit and ponder the things I have done. I don’t have time to ponder the things I haven’t done.
But today I noticed that I’m not taking very good care of myself. I’m not paying attention to how I’m feeling. I’m not paying attention to my emotional health. I’m just going, going, going.
I’m letting the visuals of the people I meet in their most trying times, take over my life away from the hospital. I’m letting them into my life, into my down times and if I’m going to survive this internship with 2 months left to go I better get it together.
I’m just wondering how I can care for myself better. I know I’m not taking care of myself because I’m neglecting everything. I haven’t knitted in weeks. I love to knit, I used to do it weekly with my gals and now I don’t even manage it once a month.
If I’m going to make it I’ve got to find a way to take care of myself and in these times of going, going, going; how I take care of myself may not look like it has in the past.