It’s cold outside. I adore the fall. I wish I could be outside taking a walk and there wouldn’t be houses and cars booming with teeth-vibrating bass. Or people who don’t move at all as you approach and instead demand that you circumvent them because drifting to the side a bit is below them.
I will be dragging myself back into work today while mentally clawing at the walls for escape from all of the dramatics and sadness that reflects the bleak weather on the outside of that building. Yesterday was terrible. I went in with high spirits that were slowly chipped and broken throughout the course of the day. Even when negativity isn’t directed toward me, I absorb it like a masochistic sponge. I sit and watch as my coworkers are degraded into tears and just feel like I’m going to drown in my own bitterness. I’ve put up with this for years and have managed to retain myself through it all. Hardest is watching many wonderful people who used to be pillars of support in the field, digress into the dynamics of highschool. Their personalities have shattered . They bring it home, carry it around with them, their anger is so obvious.
The patients suffer the brunt of this. Scattered in their rooms like tantrum-flung toys. They are the truly broken bodies that demand attention. The nurturing touch of those that can step out of their own lives and the traumas of existence on unit 2800… and instead, well… they are victims. It pains me to hear some of the things they tell me. Nurses running off to get an aide to help them to the bathroom because they couldn’t take the time to get them out of bed themselves, aides not taking the time to so much as offer to shampoo their hair during their morning baths because it would be too time consuming, the same cup of water sitting at room temperature that hasn’t been replaced for 3 shifts. The simple things.
Everyone forgets the simple things. So absorbed by the severities, attention to detail is lost. The medical field should be an art… a complex and beautiful symphony of people working together for one sole purpose. As it is, all I can hear is the clamoring of a junior high band. Out of sync and not really wanting to be there… thinking more of where they are going after school and passing notes in study hall. Without focus, there is no hope.
When did it become such a rarity for people to step outside of themselves and redirect. When did it become a million people all talking about how to improve the circumstances but not one single person stepping up as the catalyst. What does it take? Apparently the pain and suffering of the innocent people laying at the mercy of cruel fate is not enough to inspire true action.
I speak of this from the inside, not an outsider looking in. I lack the power to be the mentioned “catalyst” but I sleep well at night in the security that I can pick up some of the pieces… repair some of the damage. Be someone better than what surrounds me. I don’t bring my home life to work and I don’t bring my work life home. Ultimate detachment whilst attempting connection within the individual sections of my life.