Words

Something I know about myself -- I like words. I like to use words. I try really hard to use my words to build others up, but I think that goes back to the "treat others as you would like to be treated" lesson I learned from my momma. I also like to use my words in this setting. This blog is actually like my diary (only I don't bore you with all the details of my life.) Trust me, you don't have that kind of time and since I have never been one to journal daily, neither do I.

And there are times when I wish the inspiration would hit when it's convenient, like when I'm actually sitting in front of the computer. That rarely happens. Take that back, it NEVER happens. I usually get the inspiration to blog over the course of several days. Usually it's a build-up of several days worth of conversations. An idea hits, I let it "churn" for a few days and then I have this intense need to get to the computer and purge so I don't forget some nugget or morsel that I really need to hear. That's right, that I need to hear. I said this was a diary. While I'm opening myself up to you, the reader, this blog isn't really about you. It's about me. It's about lessons I've learned, or lessons that I need to remind myself of daily. While most of those lessons are applicable to others, I don't usually write for "them". I write for me. It's my way to release tension and relieve stress -- to de-clutter my mind so that I can move on to the next thing that needs my attention.

Those who follow this blog, know that I'm in nursing school. And one of the classes that my particular school requires is a class called Spiritual Perspectives for Healthcare Professionals. It is without a doubt my least favorite class. UGH! (Did I mention it's also at 8 am?) The idea of approaching healthcare from a spiritual perspective isn't where the problem lies. It's the professor. I find him to be a bit callous in his approach to teaching. He's funny. He gets LOTS of laughs -- I'm usually not one of the folks laughing. Now, I appreciate humor. I get comments about my laugh all the time, it's huge and easily recognizable. But when you're talking about serious issues, it's easy to downplay them for the sake of comedic relief.

Maybe it's my personal experiences that lead me to this conclusion. I will never find talking about death or dying -- or the process one goes through in getting there -- to be a "funny" topic. Today, he casually mentioned having to "counsel" a patient who has stage IV Pancreatic Cancer. He made light of the fact that this person "hasn't connected the dots". He even got chuckles from the class. Maybe it's just me, but I was offended for that person. I am sure he is better at his job and dealing with each particular situation than he is about giving specific examples to his students. However, the entire time he was talking, I kept thinking -- that person is someone's mother/father/sister/brother/child/friend. Perhaps I should offer a disclaimer -- death and dying are something I have had considerable experience with. I know it's a part of life. I know that at some point in time, everyone will deal with it. But in my short 36 years on this planet, I've dealt with more than my fair share. I think that makes me much more sensitive to other people's feelings about it. Perhaps it will even make me a better nurse.

Now, I'm not naive enough to think that my sometimes overly emotional nature isn't going to come back to kick me in the pants at some point in time. And what I ultimately want to do with nursing will likely have more than it's fair share of tears. My nature is to connect with people. While I may not have a lot of close relationships, I tend to connect emotionally -- at least on some level -- with others. I know that about myself. My hope is that I don't ever become so accustomed to "doing my job" that I forget why I wanted to be a nurse in the first place. I hope I'm never one of those people who does it to "make a paycheck" but that first, and foremost, I remember that each person I encounter in my job is someone's parent/child/spouse.