I thought of this going to sleep. I thought of this upon awakening.
I was young and I was new. The unit I worked on was an ICU step-down Unit which catered primarily to post
surgical patients.
It was a typically bad day. Our Unit was filled to capacity, our staffing was
minimal.
My mind raced in a million different directions as I stood at the medication cart counting pills. I had
to prioritize. My mind went back over what I'd done earlier that day. Had I done it thoroughly, had I done it well,
had I done it right. My mind raced to the tasks still needing to be accomplished, how would I do them, which would I
do first, would I be able to complete them all. Simultaneously I attempted to make clear, my present task, of
doling out medications in prescribed allotments. Recounting pills, rechecking syringes. This needed to be perfect.
But all
the while I heard the bell ring, as it had been ringing for the past 10 minutes at least that many times.
I broke from my
task, only to see HIM, the man in room 6, banging his bell upon the arm of the chair, while pressing it repeatedly with his finger. I saw HIM, slumped just a little in the chair, staring at me with a pleading look in his eyes as I raced past his room.
My body still in motion, on one of my prioritized missions, my mind stopped, I felt then a surge of anger ..."can't you see I'm busy? I'm not having a party you know"....the words raced through my already overloaded brain. In the split second that the anger came, it left, and I felt my heart break in about a million pieces as I saw his face.
HE was
my patient. Post-operatively it was important for him to be out of bed. But his 15 minutes had turned into 20, the 20 had turned into 25, he was exhausted, he was hurting, and I had failed him.
I went
home that night, well after HE had been tucked back into bed and given something to ease the pain, and I cried. I cried, and screamed, and couldn't forget his face, and I was sure I was a failure, and I would never go back. A friend sat near trying to console me, and finally in I suppose what was a desperate attempt to quiet my sobbing he made me make a list.
My list had two columns. What I'd done and what I hadn't done. Surprisingly, the "what I hadn't done" side was sparse and insignificant compared to
the "what I had done" side. I remember staring at the list in amazement. Had I actually done all of that in my day?
So why is it that we dwell on our failures, and not on our accomplishments. Why is it that we can let our failures hurt us more than our accomplishments make us happy?
It wouldn't be the last time I would cry, but, I always made lists. I still make lists, just so I will remember.
That is why this (post from 5.30.00) is so important. If we condemn ourselves over all we can't accomplish, we are defeated before we begin. We do our best, we do better than our best. Sometimes we even do the impossible. We need to exhalt ourselves for that.
Gaile, thanks very much!! Hey you have two books and didn't give me one?? ;-)
Me too Gaile, I'm ever so glad to be reading again. Reading is something I have always enjoyed immensely. When I was a child, I'd lock myself in the bathroom and read for hours. It was the only door in the house with a lock and I could read and no one could bother me. In any case, I find I don't even sleep as well since not being able to go to bed with a book (no comments please). But how stupid of me, to give it up because I didn't want to wear glasses! How amazing it was that I didn't want to admit to myself that my eyesight was failing. I struggled at work reading papers at arms length. I made excuses of all sorts, and I look back on this past year and realize how much I've missed and how difficult I made it on myself. I would not have thought I'd do that to myself, but there I was.
Mahatma Gandhi
