I wish I could make sense out of why these events unfold on days that start out completely ordinary. I suppose what I’m trying to say is that our lives and goodbyes are completely unpredictable. And it occurs to me that, regardless of the starting height, all falls are “long falls,” and they all happen way too fast.
“Mourning Dove Bailing,” Bob MacInnes/ via Flickr.
I’m exhausted and shaky, and the “pssssht!” sound of the pneumatic doors of the ER closing behind me on the way out sounds final, and just fine. I didn’t used to feel this way when I worked in the ER. Of course, that was at the other end, the beginning, of my nursing career, when I was young(er) and callous and every code was a challenge and a rush—as if the people were characters in a play, and I got to join in each evening. I hadn’t a clue what they were going through. Now, 30 years and two dead parents, a dead best friend, and a score of minor players later, I’m beginning to understand. I suspect that this glimmer of connection and compassion is what makes hospice nursing sometimes so draining. […]