Happy Birthday to My Wife the Nurse
My standard joke on my half birthday, and in fact on the 21st day of every single month, is to point out that “it’s my birthday today.” I then proceed to express my utter disbelief and disappointment that no one has texted me congratulations yet, posted how great I am on Facebook, or sent me tickets to the Australian Open. I will also often walk around the rest of the day suggesting to family members that I know that a surprise party has been planned for me. Pretty obnoxious I know.
So to avoid being a total hypocrite I celebrate my wife today on her half birthday. She is, after all, an amazing person and an incredible nurse. I wrote the following poem as a tribute to her and to all of her fellow nurses out there who provide healing, put themselves at risk, and perform tasks that most of us would never be able to do.
It’s also my effort to counterbalance my very first post when I described her as the descendant of a murderer.
Glowin’ in the Wind
She rises pre-dawn on a Sunday
Tired and sore from the aches and burdens of yesterday’s 12-hour shift, which for her is closer to 14 hours
The Intensive Care Unit is a unique place
Adjacent to the normal world where people move about freely- talking, laughing, and often complaining about the slightest thing – lies another world of invasive tubes and beeping monitors, of uncontrolled limbs and bodily fluids, and of pain and gripping fear
Those outside these walls continue with their lives oblivious to the ICU until it is their time to take residence
It’s a place where most people only go when they are at the end of their journey
The work is emotionally taxing and far more physically demanding than most realize- bodies are not designed to move other bodies that weigh three times their own weight
It requires great skill and discipline and precise knowledge of sophisticated equipment and medication dosages
But it also demands calmness and concentration in a tsunami of life threatening activity and pressure – “ Who remains calm in a violent storm, who is troubled by the passing breeze? ”
But despite all of that she rises pre-dawn with a smile- I can even hear her whistling in the shower!
Yes, she may be dealing soon with suffering and even death and all of its terrible trappings, but it eerily provides her with even more life than usual
It reminds her that life’s clock is not unlimited and that days, hours, minutes and even seconds are to be savored
To her, the job is not merely a destination or a place to log time
It’s an opportunity to provide genuine care and empathy, to attempt to relieve suffering, to heal the mind as much as the body, and, more often than she would like, prepare folks and their families for the inevitable and help them try to make peace with it
The residents are complete strangers, yet she adopts every one as her own, acutely mindful of the fact that each patient is somebody’s spouse, parent, child, sibling or friend
She appreciates that every patient has a unique story to tell: growing up as a child, romancing a spouse (or perhaps more than one), raising children, and/or performing interesting or beneficial work
Each has accumulated tales of joys and disappointments, of accomplishments and regrets, and of overcoming adversity and succumbing to weakness
She knows that some have done wonderful things with their lives and others have largely wasted the gift, that some have been bridge builders and others relationship destroyers, that some hold views that preach acceptance, love, equality and respect, and that others harbor animosity, selfishness, hatred and bigotry
But she puts aside the character and convictions of those before her and gives each her absolute best and does not stop until she has fulfilled that moral responsibility; often well beyond the scheduled shift.
My wife is a saint!
