Non medical people: hang with me just a second.
1. I became aware that his temperature had risen to 99 degrees. It wasn’t a high fever mind you, but it was mildly concerning none the less. Coupled with the sound I heard when I placed my stethoscope on his chest, the rattling gurgle sound, and the numbers on the monitor telling me his breathing wasn’t optimal, I was a little concerned, but not too much. I knew what he needed to do. A common complication after surgery is pneumonia. People lay in the bed, sleeping, in pain, under the effects of lingering anesthesia and pain medication. They don’t take deep breaths and they don’t cough. To put it simple and plain, junk settles in the bottom of their lungs and gets infected. My patient didn’t have pneumonia, but he was at risk of developing it. He needed to get up and get busy deep breathing and coughing. It’s quite amazing really. When they do these things you can hear the lungs clear, see numbers improve, and the temperature return to normal.
2. I’ve come to realize that doubt is a lot like pneumonia. Doubt sets in when we are vulnerable. It often comes on the cusp of something good coming our way. There are a lot of ways doubt comes to you. I’ve noticed that often times when I’m really praising God for His goodness that I’ll be bombarded by doubt in my faith. I don’t think for a minute that it’s a coincidence that when I’m in the midst of being thankful that I’m attacked at that moment with doubt in my beliefs. I used to feel guilty about that, but not anymore. I think guilt over your imperfection can just be a catalyst for doubt to multiple. Example: “I am such a bad Christian to have doubt. I don’t know how God could use someone like me!” Your guilt over doubt has you doubting yourself. Confused yet?
3. Doubt is a festering infection that can build over time if not dealt with properly. It’s not just doubt for your lack of faith. It can be doubt in yourself. I am a master at self-doubt. I have a Mary Poppins mentality as I’ve said before, wishing to be practically perfect in every way. Since no one is perfect other than Mary Poppins and Jesus (and Mary Poppins is fictional), I set myself up for disappointment. I doubt my abilities as a mom. I doubt my abilities as a wife, a nurse, a sister, a friend, or a writer. I doubt my ability to hear God and to share my faith to others. This doubt, the feelings of inadequacy and self-defeat simply settle in my spirit, accumulating into something nasty. They keep me from obtaining God’s best for me because I don’t believe I can. And I suppose I can’t, but God can. So what can we do to prevent a full blown case of doubt pneumonia? We got to deep breathe and cough. We have to inhale God’s truth and exhale the lies from the enemy, coughing out every single bit of junk, every infecting thought of doubt. We won’t get it all out with one coughing spell either. We’ll have to work on it, breathing deep and increasing our capacity for truth. Breathe in the word of God, His truth in scripture. Exhale and expel anything that doesn’t go along with those truths. Like my patient you want to catch it before a serious infection sets in. When you do you can breathe easier and work on healing, work to be stronger and fulfill all that God has for you, unhampered by infectious doubt.
That is all ๐
3 Facts for the Day (The Abandoned Call of Fatherhood Edition)
- Not to long ago I cared for a man just a couple of years younger than myself. His reason for hospitalization was based on poor decisions he made for his life which is often the main reason of injury or illness in thirty-somethings. I don’t say that with any hint of judgement. It’s merely a statistical fact. Anyway, we spoke at length as I’m prone to do with my patients. Upon conversation, he shared with me that he had two daughters. The firstborn he stated was nine years old. He then shared that he had not seen her since birth. Naturally curious, I pursued further on the specifics of such a tragic situation in my eyes. I can never be certain of the full capacity for truth in these matters, especially when the person in question is coming off of mind-altering substances. He gave many reasons why he couldn’t see his daughter, and I’d honestly be lying if I said I felt any of these excuses were valid. A reason like geography or the mother’s dislike of you is not a good reason to never see your child in my personal opinion. I wasn’t angry at this young man. I was simply sad. I was upset for him, and the lost relationship with all the beautiful things that entails that he was missing, and I was also upset for the poor young woman who did not know her father.
- When I become aware of a situation like this, I take it personally. I can’t help it. I think of my own biological father. He was a man who sadly cared only for himself, and any other human being always ran a distant second place. My childhood memories with him are of broken promises, his constant, repeated absences, and unfortunate situations like stealing my birthday money to buy cigarettes. I don’t think men are aware of the lofty position they are ordained by God when they father a child. God places men in a position over their children where they are expected to exemplify to the best of their ability the characteristics of our Father God in Heaven. They are to be a protector, a provider, a fortress of strength, a place of unconditional love where their children may find comfort and rest. When this role is not fulfilled, it sets the child up for future failure, being uncertain of themselves, and lacking in an example to serve them throughout their adult life. Young girls, I believe, are especially affected by this lack of earthly father love. They feel rejected, unworthy of love, and will have a poor example of a man’s character with which to base on future relationships. I was gifted by God with a second chance to learn these precious examples. He placed another man in my life to step into a father’s role. Many women never have that opportunity, and in my opinion are left lacking an example of strong character for future choices in a mate. I also believe there is an empty place in their life that they may try to fill in unhealthy ways. I think they will always feel a sense of rejection and unworthiness due to their father’s absence. My own biological father was eager to relinquish parental rights for me in the face of impending medical bills. Although it was for the best, as I was adopted by my loving dad, I honestly still have issue with his quickness to abandon a relationship with me. It’s something God has worked with over time, and continues to do in my life.
- As I spoke with my patient, I explained to him my own feelings of rejection from my biological father. I urged him to work on himself, change his life for the better, if not for himself, then for his little girls. I warned him that she would be forever affected if he continued to accept a nonexistent relationship with his daughter, that one day she would wonder why he didn’t try harder. Men have a weighty responsibility placed upon them when rearing a child. It is not for the faint of heart, or for the non-committed. It is the highest position, the most important job you will ever be given. The outcome of your efforts will influence a generation, and make or break the future for them. It is not a task to be taken lightly, but a calling of utmost importance to mold young minds, protect hearts, and build-up spirits. I only pray that more young men will see the gravity of their actions, the responsibility that has been placed upon them, and the ramifications if unwillingly to take their role seriously. God gave fatherhood as a reflection of His love. It can’t be taken lightly. The children will suffer.
That is all
I would like to add that I am aware that men are not the only parent who can shirk their responsibility. Though I can’t imagine such a thing, and cringe at the thought, I am sadly aware that some women are capable of neglecting the responsibilities of being a mother, the best gift God ever gave to me. I chose to write this blog mainly on the absence of a father because that is what impacts me personally. It is not meant to imply that only men leave. That being said…
That is all, again.
3 Facts for the Day (You Write Your Own Story Edition)
- And so I asked him,
Do you think your story has already been written?
Do you think that what you’ve done in the past dictates your future? Do you think yesterday predicts tomorrow?
Do you think what happened in your family predestines what will happen to you?
Do you think how your family treats you or how they see you indicates who you are?
I’ve got news for you. It doesn’t. You write your own story. What happened yesterday doesn’t mean a hill of beans for tomorrow. What others say, do, or react to you… it doesn’t matter.
What matters is what you do from this point forward. -
As I spoke to him I thought of a boy I once knew. I suppose you could say he was a man, in his early twenties, but as I get older and he does not, he is remembered younger and younger in my mind’s eye. We were never very close. He was older than me, not by a lot, but enough so that our interests differed, limiting much in depth interaction with each other. But I remember when I was young watching from afar, the way a little child will do, enamored by his maturity. As I grew older I kept watching. I matured in my own right and became aware that his behavior wasn’t simply exciting, but rather risky and ill advised. He was consistently in trouble with authority of any kind. He had trouble committing to anything, holding down a job, or maintaining any adult responsibility. When questioned about his numerous problems his reaction was always the same. His father had been an alcoholic who shot himself. His parents had divorced. He never felt loved. He was convinced that his upbringing had determined his course in life. Despite attempted intervention by loved ones he continued on his downward spiral. He continued until his untimely death at too young of an age.
-
I see him too often, not just in my memories but in so many young men who come into my care. Something about the stress of life, the struggles along the way, they weigh heavy on a heart, especially one in need of loving acceptance. I see so many who fall victim to their surroundings, their upbringing, and the opinion of others, thinking their station in life has been set, and that there’s no changing it. They fail, and then they end up believing they are unable to succeed. They acquire a defeatist attitude where they are convinced, “I can’t do any better. This is what I am.” They believe every negative word, and even imagine negativity in honest words from a well-meaning friend or family member. I see many after attempting to take their own life. The repeated feelings of worthlessness, emptiness, and defeat become too much to bear. They break.
As I spoke to a recent patient in just such a position I tried to explain that his life wasn’t a pointless cause with no hope for renewal. It could be made new. For example, being a child of an alcoholic may genetically predispose you to an increased risk for alcohol addiction, but it doesn’t make you an alcoholic. Other than the author and perfecter of our life, The Lord, no one or no thing determines the course our life is destined to take. Change is in your hands. You write your own story. As I left my patient he cried, and as I hugged him goodbye I encouraged him, “You don’t have to remember my name or even my face, but remember my words. You are good enough. I believe in you. You can change your story.”
That is all ๐
3 Facts for the Day (Sick Day Edition)
- As I looked down at the collection of discarded suckers, not a single lollipop touched from the handful she had been given as peace offerings, I knew she must really feel bad. It was as if I could still feel the heat of her forehead on my lips, lingering there from the kiss that had graced her feverish skin as I left. I was leaving for work, unable to put off any longer the training that I knew was required. A much trusted sitter had been obtained, but it still hurt my mommy heart to leave her. Medicine given, a cup of water beside her, and a light blanket laid across her, I knew she would be okay, but still. Still it made my heart ache to see her falling asleep, almost drug into slumber by fatigue from fighting illness. My logical nurse mind told me she was fine. It reminded me of all the chronically ill children out there, and encouraged me to count my blessings. And I did, but still. Still it hurt my heart to see her hurting. I saw her pale face, her red-rimmed eyes, and how they seemed so heavy as I had pulled her from her car seat. “I’m sleepy Momma” she had said, an uncommon phrase for a young lady who fights naps like a true princess warrior.
- In the doctor’s office she had cried. Rarely sick, she was frightened of what might happen. We had talked it over at home, and practiced with my stethoscope, taking turns listening to each other breathe. We had discussed what to expect, and her dad had assured her she wouldn’t get a shot. She had seen her baby sister cry at multiple immunization appointments, and he promised her the shots were for babies only. I carried her on my hip as we entered the clinic. She clung to me desperately, and kept repeating, “I love you Momma.” I knew she wanted my protection from fear, pain, and the unknown. I was transported back in time to my eight year old self, sitting in the doctor’s office once again, having my blood drawn again in a vain attempt to stabilize the dosage of medicine to keep the seizures away. I asked my mommy to draw my blood instead of the lab tech I didn’t know. I was sure my mommy could do it magically without inflicting pain. I remember my surprise when it hurt just as bad, or maybe even worse. Back in the clinic today, holding my three year old, my little sunshine, singing to her, and rocking her back and forth as we waited, I just wished I could make it not hurt, somehow take it away, and put it on myself. When she ended up needing a shot, and I had to hold her as she cried in fear, I felt my heart tearing. To love someone so much, to wish only good for them, is a gift, but it is hard as well, so hard when they fall, or when they hurt, or especially when they’re scared. To allow the pain because it is for a greater good, this is especially difficult.
- I had a close friend tell me recently, “I’m hurting.” Upon further conversation, I realized it wasn’t physical pain of which he spoke. He was experiencing difficulty, uncertainty in life, emptiness, the bottom of the barrel, a place of desolate futility. I didn’t have the words to say, the magical advice to make it all better. I could attempt to offer pieces of knowledge I’ve gained in my own journey through the desert, but in the end my words were just that. Words. When encountering a person who is experiencing fear, pain, loss, and especially emptiness, I am reminded of parenting. I’m reminded of how much I love my little girls, the extent to which I would give of myself for their benefit. Then I’m reminded of the Father Heart of God. This is the belief and acceptance that God is our Heavenly Father, from whom we were created, and for whom we live. I am reminded of His perfect love for us, His children. I am reminded of how much He has done for us, giving His own Son’s life for our benefit, so we might have freedom from sin and death. In this way He did something I couldn’t do today. He took the pain away. He put it on Himself, and the sting of death was removed from His children. Today I allowed the pain of the blood work and the shot for my daughter because I knew it was temporary, and in the end would benefit her. She did not understand that at all, but I did what was best for her. Our own Abba Father works all things together for our good, even the bad, painful things. We can’t always see that.
1 John 3:1
See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!
Romans 8:15
The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship.[a] And by him we cry, โAbba,[b] Father.โ
Love brings healing. It brings wholeness. His perfect love brings peace. One day we will get better, we will be without pain or fear. We will be healed. He has promised it. Cry out Abba Father.
That is all ๐
My sweet, sick daughter, sitting by my side, made the decision for the text on today’s photo. It works.
3 Facts for the Day (Walk in Joy Edition)
- They say to bloom where you’re planted. That’s not always easy when the soil underneath you is filled with rocks, and unfriendly to your growth. Often times your situation in life may be an unpleasant one, and the only growth you can see of the situation is a growing thorn in your side. I recently cared for a patient with an extensive inpatient hospital course. I had the opportunity to monitor the patient and her family throughout her stay. Both the patient and her many family members were very spiritual, and it was refreshing to watch them lean on God when they couldn’t understand the situations surrounding them, or to see them place their trust in Him, believing He would heal their matriarch.
- Throughout the ups and downs of her stay, progressing one day, but declining on another, I was witness to the trials it places on one’s faith or outlook when faced with uncertain and changing circumstances. One weekend I might encounter joyous celebration, laughter, and strength, but come in another time to downcast eyes and a weary countenance. It didn’t necessarily mean their faith had faltered, or that they no longer praised God in the storm, it simply meant that things were hard, and sometimes when the going gets tough, it just sucks. I handled them with finesse in these moments, offering grace when a harsh tone was used, trying to remember how similarly God gives us grace when we grumble at Him. They (the family and the patient herself) always seemed to bounce back from their moment of sadness, shining once again with the joy of The Lord, as if their brief hiatus from positivity had been a time of renewal of spirit, as if being refueled for the journey ahead. They inspired me.
- Even if your actions are not the reaction to a monumental trial, but simply your approach to the mundane, it is no less important how you tackle each day as it comes. I found myself this morning in a funk. As I stood in the shower I realized I felt crummy. I did not want to go to work. Don’t laugh at me, or say join the club. On any given work day I would prefer to stay home with my children, as I’m sure most moms do, but today that unmotivated feeling was greater than usual. I can typically have the mindset to press on, but today it was gone. I’m sure the return from a beach vacation didn’t help matters. Everyone wishes vacations could last longer. I stood there dreading my work day while still stewing over the absurd number that greeted me from the scale. How did I gain five pounds?! I sulked, as memories of all the cakes, cookies, and pies consumed revisited me. Less than perfect situations are bound to occur in this imperfect world, but how you allow it to ultimately, and continually effect you is up to you. I took bad thoughts captive. I prayed for strength. I made it a point to ruminate on His love. In the end, I walked in joy today. I decided to bloom where I was planted, despite the rocky soil. Like my patient and her family, despite situations wanting to bring my thoughts south, I persevered for happiness, and it found me.
That is all ๐
3 Facts for the Day (Blessed By A Patient)
- On those busy days, the ones where it’s pure insanity, you can forget. When you’re running your legs off, developing cramps in your calves, and testing the boundaries of bladder capacity, you can become complacent in your empathy. When you feel like your unit is a drive-thru at McDonald’s, and the patients just keep coming, complete with long orders, and you wonder if your patient rooms have a revolving door, you can somehow miss the mark, and forget how to walk in someone else’s shoes.
- Imagine if you came into the hospital voluntarily for an elective procedure, a simple one that’s been preformed countless times on just about everyone you know, but with you things went terribly wrong. What if all the “less than 2%” complications listed on the consent form happened to you? Then imagine a lengthy recovery. Try to comprehend how it must feel to still be in intensive care a month after your minor procedure, with tubes and lines everywhere, not being able to eat, suffering pain at simply rolling onto your side. What if you just weren’t really sure if you were going to get better? What if this was your mom or your dad, or maybe your spouse? Imagine the worry, the bone-tired aches from sleeping in waiting rooms, the fear lurking under the surface that you might just lose them. What happens when you stop rushing to pass meds on time, or catch up on charting, or try to grab lunch before the cafeteria closes, and stop for a few moments to really see what is going on in that hospital bed besides what the labs and monitor tell you? You see hope. You see strength personified. You see the human spirit reaching for God. And it’s beautiful.
- I walked into the room and the daughter was talking to her mom. Well, I thought she was talking at first. But then I realized, no, she’s praying. I had a IV antibiotic to hang, and quietly crept to the computer to chart its administration. I paused. I had to. She wasn’t simply praying. She was warfaring. She was speaking the name of Jesus with an honest intensity that almost bled the words. She believed every thing that she was petitioning would come to pass. It was evident in her voice somehow, the faith she carried. I could barely cross the room for the air was so thick. I could feel the presence of the Holy Spirit, and it invigorated me. I could see I wasn’t the only one feeling His power, and the daughter’s prayers intensified. I was witness to faith in healing, and praise. I watched my patient’s countenance change and her mood improve as she drew strength from her Savior. I saw hope and peace shining somehow in her cataract-ridden eyes, and it was beautiful. I felt my own heart racing with the joy and intensity of communion with the King, and somehow walked a little lighter, as if on air, as I finally backed out of the room to complete other duties requiring my attention. I was energized, just as she had been, and I felt honored to be witness to such a wonderful display of character in the face of adversity, enduring faith in the most difficult of situations. It was belief in physical healing, but also an instantaneous emotional healing in a time of difficult trial. I shall not easily forget my presence at the intercession held today, nor how it strengthened us all.
That is all ๐
3 Facts for the Day (Perfect Peace Edition)
- It was absolutely horrible that first year out of school as a new registered nurse. I remember initially turning down a job from a hospital because they were offering to pay me as a new graduate. I had been delivering care as a Navy Corpsman and felt I was more advanced than your run-of-the-mill new graduate. Then I started my first job in critical care and my tiny mind was blown. I was confronted with the fact of just how little I really knew. I was like a big ole sponge in a tiny body. I didn’t just learn something new every time I worked, but rather learned a lot of new somethings. Bless the heart of my preceptor for her patience in the face of my arsenal of questions. I was basically a nervous wreck. I would pray my way to work, begging God that I wouldn’t mess up too bad and end up unwillingly killing someone. I lost 20 pounds as I was usually nauseated, and seldom had an appetite to speak of. When I arrived for my shift, an astounding 30 minutes early, my first stop was usually the bathroom to suffer from a nervous stomach. I was kind of like a little jack-in-the box back then. I was just one crank away from exploding out of my box of sanity. I watched the nurses around me throughout that season of my life with envy and awe. How could they laugh so easily while chaos ran rampant, telling a joke while a patient lay unresponsive and struggling, but never missing a beat in the orchestra of saving a life. I just didn’t get it, but I wanted to.
- My husband is as cool as a cucumber. When I get worked up about something, which is pretty often, he is like an anchor that keeps me from going adrift. When I got all bent out of shape about overdrawing our checking account, he responded with, “Haha. It happens to everybody.” Seriously, that is a direct texted quote. Yesterday he texted me nonchalantly about the baby having a fever greater than 102. I’ll be honest. I wanted to flip out a little bit. He helped reel me in and remind me that she was non-symptomatic and happy as could be. In the face of trouble, conflict, or mix-ups he is a stone wall. Occasionally I want to peek behind his ear for a microchip or something to indicate he is really a robot. Either that or shake him with unbridled jealousy for his stoic nature. Truthfully, though it sometimes drives me a teensy bit crazy, mostly I’m envious of his calm, collected demeanor in the face of adversity. He continues to inspire me, as I think I occasionally do him.
- This morning when I woke I was bone tired. (Today I actually felt like I could possibly be diagnosed with narcolepsy, for I was certain I almost passed out while standing a number of times). I stood in the shower and realized I felt dread. I don’t like that feeling as I think it’s kinfolk to fear. I found myself a little worried about what my day would hold, and was concerned if I was up for it. I had the opportunity this morning to read a couple of scriptures, and they seemed to be following a central theme even though they were in two different devotional locations.
Isaiah 26:3
3 You will keep in perfect peace
those whose minds are steadfast,
because they trust in you.
John 14:1
Jesus Comforts His Disciples
1 “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me.
So, at that point I was wondering, Oh dear. What kind of day must be in store for me if God is trying so hard to get His point across?! Today was a full day, full of many jobs, many responsibilities, many concerns, many problems. But I had made up my mind before I walked in the door that I would be in perfect peace. I committed that first verse to memory and repeated it to myself before I left my car. Some might say a calm demeanor in nursing is earned after experience in the field. I can agree with that, but attitude is everything. You can decide whether you want to approach your day with dread and spastic worry, or with an attitude of peace and calm, level-headed determination. If you just know it’s going to be bad, then it likely will be. You’ve written the end of the story before it’s even begun. Your attitude will also flow into others. It’s like when a baby falls. If you act panicked or concerned, they’ll cry. Laugh, and they do too. Approach those around you with joy, positivity, and serenity, and they’ll give it back. Any situation goes smoother if those around you feel like you have it under control. I remember a song from the musical The King and I that had the chorus whistled. It went a little like this:
Whenever I feel afraid, I hold my head erect and whistle a happy tune, so no one will suspect I’m afraid.
The result of this deception is very strange to tell, for when I fool the people I fear, I fool myself as well.
I do like that, but I got to thinking that faith is even better than that. Faith isn’t a deception. Faith is believing the very solid truth that our God is in control. When you can convince your stubborn human mind to remember that, then the panic, fear, dread, etc. dissipates and calm, clarity ensues. I still use a few coping mechanisms as well to calm myself. If you hear me singing while a patient is circling the drain, realize that I’m not a weirdo, that’s just my way of relaxing myself. So, next time you feel afraid, try it. Whistle a little tune. Sing a little song. Pray. Accept the perfect peace. It makes things a great deal easier.
That is all ๐
3 Facts for the Day (Inquiring Minds Want to Know Edition)
- Sometimes it’s something as simple as feeling the warmth of the sun’s rays on your skin. The day can be overcast and bitterly cold, but in that brief moment that the sun makes an appearance through the dark clouds, and rests its beam on your face, you can close your eyes, basking in its glory, and feel a little piece of Heaven here on earth. The glory of God, His Holy Spirit can settle on you unexpectedly just like that, bringing peace without explanation, but simply because it’s there.
- Her mom was doing okay, she was stable anyway, but definitely a decline from the last time I had seen them. I had seen this same patient three weekends in a row, for various reasons, and always in a different location in the hospital. Last weekend she had looked better, even smiled at me, so I was saddened to see she had been moved to the critical care unit. Despite obviously feeling unwell, and being in residence in the unit, she seemed “stable.” That’s always a loose term in critical care and can change in a moment. Usually after you have updated a family member via phone of a continued stable condition, as I had in this instance, it will change shortly after hanging up the receiver. She changed quickly and it was indeed a turn for the worse, bringing a hoard of staff into the room quickly (which is never a good sign). When the poor lady was thankfully stabilized once again, the family was updated and brought back to visit. Seeing their mom in a state different from the one in which they left, there were naturally a lot of questions. Answering questions, even when you know the majority of the answers, is never easy because you will never know them all. You can hypothesize intelligently, but you may never know the answer to the ever elusive “why.” This was no different. They needed more answers. They needed to understand why it happened and give something specific the blame for the decline. I can understand that, even if I can’t answer as I would want to. Sometimes there isn’t an answer, no matter how hard you grab for one.
- Anyone with a child can tell you that is true. Children are famous for questions, and especially ones that start with why. My own three year old asked questions last night for the entire two hour car ride home. We laid out the plan for the road trip and which coarse we would take, but she wanted to know every detail, and a contingent plan if ______ happened (even when we explained that it would not). Medical professions like myself often need the answers to things, specifics as to why something has occurred. My baby had a fever today, but no symptoms of infection. Why? I wanted to know. It went away, and if she’s like her sister at the same age, it may likely not return. I may never know what caused it, and a part of me will cringe with the dissatisfaction of not knowing. I have a dear friend who is very analytical. I watch him study things, with a scientific approach. He wants evidence and solid data that proves something to be what it claims to be. This often causes him to be distrustful of others, and unable to simply enjoy something for what it is rather than having to prove that it is. I see this in religion too, maybe too much. I do believe in discernment and testing of the spirits. I personally rely on that a lot. But asking the Holy Spirit to help you discern the root and basis of an issue may need to come before exhaustive research of quantifiable data. I think you can test things against the Bible for sure. If it contradicts God’s word then naturally there’s a problem. I think researching what others have discovered in their own studies is a good tool also. But never forget the first line of defense which is praying and asking for God’s guidance and discernment in the matter. Don’t become consumed with proving a theory incorrect because you don’t see rock solid evidence. Sometimes the answer isn’t easy to find, and you may not know for sure until you stand before Jesus himself. We unintentionally separate ourselves from other believers when we’re so busy trying to prove that we’re absolutely right. We lose out on the joy of fellowship, and the joy of spending time simply believing. Sometimes, when God’s word says it is so, you just have to belief and accept that you might not fully know the answer to all the why questions. It’s faith, remember? I was reading this today and thought, I definitely don’t want to be like that!
John 20:25
25 So the other disciples told him, โWe have seen the Lord!โ
But he said to them, โUnless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.โ
An inquiring mind is a good thing, but when you keep asking to know “why” rather than to know Him, you may find yourself consumed with getting answers and selling yourself short on just enjoying the sun on your face.
That is all ๐
3 Facts for the Day (The Mind of the Nurse Revealed)
- It felt so good just to sit down. I was unaware of how wonderful it would feel to simply allow my muscles to relax, and cease the constant tensing motion in which they had been subject to for the last few hours. It was like I could finally let out the pent-up breath that had been caught in my throat, anticipating the next decline, or unexpected change in vital signs. I took a long swallow of my drink. It had been a diet drink served over ice. The ice had long ago melted, after its purchase hours prior, and the temperature of the soda was almost the same as the room. But in that moment, it was the best drink I had ever had. I’m sure the cupped hands into an oasis pool after having crawled through the desert could taste no more satisfying than my watered down diet soda did at that moment. To simply be away from the declining numbers, pinging alarms, and pull on the straw out of the condensation covered styrofoam was pure ecstasy.
- So many times it can come like that, so fast and unexpected, that the reality and depth of the situation has little time to take effect. Instead of mulling it over, you are left with only the option to react. The happy fella resting comfortably becomes a man unable to breathe, covered in sweat, and displaying numbers on the screen that are incompatible with life. At first, calm clarity comes. Action is taken to resolve the issue at hand. Often, this is not enough, and additional measures are required. So, you keep going. You keep trying the next thing. You keep a level head and a steady voice. Your hands don’t shake, for that is not allowed. You smile for family, trying to infect them with your calm demeanor. Even if your heart is beating fast, you resemble a duck on the water, gliding smoothly across the surface, never alerting anyone to the frantic paddling below the water line.
- It begins to weigh on you, as time keeps ticking, and nothing is working. You feel frazzled, as if your tiny brain might just explode from the sensory overload, but you keep your wits. You have to because you’re a nurse, and that’s what you do. This is what you were made for, to stand in the phase of doom, and hold up your hand, sternly proclaiming, “Not today, not on my watch.” Just when you begin to truly wonder if you can keep fighting the stubborn decline, as you fear the scream inside you may just escape, and become audible to all; things settle down. Things become right once again. As quickly as it came, it is done. You don’t quite catch the gravity of the situation until someone has the kind thought to say, “Good job. You saved that man’s life.” You’re taken aback at first, then you realize, Wow. I did, didn’t I! It seems sometimes that your actions appear so commonplace to you that you forget the awesome weight of the job you perform. Then you walk away, and you almost cry. The reality hits, or maybe the pent-up frustration, but either way, you feel as if you could cry a river of relieving tears. But you don’t. That’s not what you do. You continue to your next task, as your blood pumps, full of chewed up nails and diamond dust, because that’s what a nurse is made of. You have the nerves of steel when faced with crisis, the resolve of a brick wall when challenged, an amazingly powerful personality that can take every insult and angry word thrown your way, but can make a 360 degree turn to an overflowing fountain of compassion when a crying family member needs to hold your hand, or hug your neck. You leave for the day unsure if you can do it again tomorrow, but you will, and you do, because that’s what nurses do. That’s who you are.
That is all ๐
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