Why I'm A Nurse, But Not Your Nurse
I've probably told you, but you might've missed it
While my stethoscope rests in a drawer, here are some photos, a song, a poem, another song, and some words. It’s nothing personal:
How am I?
How am I? If you don’t know, don’t ask me (OK Go):
How am I?
“Why, what’s wrong?” If you have to ask, you’ve missed the point. I will not spend my time repeating myself because you weren’t paying attention. Go back and reread, relisten, figure it out. My why is not a mystery. I have not been subtle. But, somehow, you missed it. Again. My heart has been breaking, and you didn’t notice. Now it’s hurting, and I need to nurse myself. So, I am doing exactly that — wintering, pausing, hydrating. I’m taking care, and you should know why.
My “Why” is a Story, and You Can’t Have It
You can’t name my North Star
Or my partner
You can’t name my creatures or their ailments
You don’t know how I take my morning beverage
And you don’t know my taste in music
You don’t know my Leadership Style, or my burnout trauma
You don’t know about my cups, or festivals
You don’t understand my costumes, books I enjoy, or hobbies
You don’t ask questions, and I don’t offer up anything extra, because
It’s my story, and you can’t have it.
Mom’s Broom, you don’t get to know.
My wooden heart, light through the trees, a broken story, a path unfinished
You don’t get to know, because that story is mine.
A Bedside Campfire, and all the ways I’ve tried – ours, but not yours.
Wellness Warriors, my swings and misses? Take them, they’re all yours.
But Narrative Medicine, and the warmth in my heart, those are mine.
M.E. First
I’ll take the clean-up, sanitizing, disposal, and grief
I’ll take the eggshells, and brokenness, and pain, and scars
I’ll take the healing, nurturing, whatever I need
I will give what I can and take what I need, and leave the rest
I will plant good seeds, and nurture the soil, and tend to my garden, and flourish
I will thrive in spite of you. I am wilting, because of you. I will repot myself, nurture my tender roots, check in carefully with my self, my partner, my guides… I will listen… and I will take good care. I am proactive, and I take good care. I am nursing myself, carefully, because I am worthy of good care. I am the kind of nurse that My North Star would be proud of, and you don’t get to know her name. Her story, our story, and my “Why”, are mine. I choose who gets a piece, and who doesn’t. And I will go forth knowing how to TAKE GOOD CARE, goodbye. I’m finished here.
And when you call me someone else’s name, I’ll just smirk. Cuz, that’s not my name (The Ting Tings):
I am a nurse, but I’m not your nurse.
I am my own nurse, and I take care of myself and my tribe, then we nurse our community, indefinitely.
Take good care!
Love,
Jessie
And finally, off I get, HOT TO GO (Chappel Roan):
The most beautiful thing you’ve written that I’ve had the pleasure of reading. I suppose it’s the rawness and the rage that appeals to me.
Dear Healthcare (Capital "H"),
Not my employer, or a former employer, or that of a friend, or where we seek care. I mean Healthcare, all of it, top-down, left-to-right, ALL of Modern American Healthcare --- the ship on which we are all adrift.
I've been waiting for you to hear me. As a nurse, I have observed, assessed, used my clinical judgement and critical thinking to identify, name, and express "what is the problem". The problem in American Healthcare is so nuanced, it's got itself wrapped in tight coils and knots, twisting and tightening around the minds and hearts of brilliant, loving, caring, compassionate, incredible workers across the care continuum.
I work hard professionally to support new and seasoned healthcare workers to learn how to do their jobs safely, understand the best and safest practices, and do the job they set out to do: to Nurse Our Communities (nursing, the verb, not the noun).
I hear stories from across the continuum, because I meet people from EVERYWHERE. I meet people from around the WORLD, across the COUNTRY, people who have worked in jails, hospitals, nursing homes, home care, schools, colleges, pediatric hospice, EVERYWHERE. My mind is filled with their stories. My heart is breaking... holding these stories... with nowhere to put them. I think this is how I've found god. I think this is where anyone finds god. In despair. In heartbreak. Historically, I've called myself "agnostic"... maybe it was borderline "atheism"... but, I feel my mind changing. I haven't landed yet.
I have watched while countless humans have TRIED. Tried and succeeded --- ascended ---... I've held those who have tried and "failed" --- swings & misses... myself included.
And we persist. I have persisted. And I feel wary. I'm tired. I haven't been sleeping well. I worry for my kids. My parents. Our family. My tribe. My colleagues, the patients we love and try to serve.
And, though Taylor Swift says "I Can Do It With A Broken Heart", I'm wondering:
For how long?
I don't know. But turning to god, the universe, surrendering the knowing and the guessing, I comfort myself in the "not knowing" and persist.
"Nevertheless, she persisted"
I'm seeing the future as an "Upgrades Tour" --- looking at the upcoming year, my own path and the work I do, our shared path and where we seem to be heading, and identifying "where are the upgrades needed"? Without the clinging Worry Burs of "but" or "if", I'm asking where my and our attention and energy is most essential.
That leaves me with a question, Healthcare. American Healthcare. This industry, funded by private and federal dollars. This battered ship of an industry, filled with passengers and crew who are trying our best. We are TRYING. We ALL are trying. So... Healthcare. American Healthcare...
Where are we heading? And, on this particular Ship of Modern American Healthcare --- Do you think we get there?
Let's sit with that. And decide what's next.
Where are my skills going to do the best work now? And ours, the Healthcare Crew. Where do we start? Nursing the passengers? Our crew? Hammering floorboards? Painting walls? Refueling? Preparing food? Cleaning toilets? Swabbing the deck? Looking for loose nails? Repairing the engine? Watching for pirates?
And while we keep this ship afloat... while we all work hard to get us to safety... hoping beyond hope - a surrender only a god can hold - that the foreseeable future will be safe, stable, and eventually better than the past...
Do we need to find the lifeboats? Is it time to self-rescue -- as individuals and as a crew? How does a captain know if it's time to abandon ship? I don't know or claim to know the answers. We all must sit with these questions. Passengers and Crew. Look at this situation.
Hope tells me ... but worry tells me ... And here I am. Talking to myself. And you. Asking --- where do we go from here?
We protect the passengers AND the crew. Find out who needs rescuing most imminently. Identify our most vulnerable (patients, people in the community, workers, caregivers, levels of care) --- who needs the most resources --- help rescue them first. I don't know the answer to this. But you might.
Once we've rescued those we can save, we have to decide --- is this Ship worth saving?
It seems so battered after the Halestorm COVID-19, and scorched by the growing fires fueled by kerosene hoses on the Tugboats. Those Tugboats built to rescue the Passengers and the Crew... they seem to be fueling the flames. The crew are wary. Hear them. I've heard them --- and their stories are in my heart forever. I continue to hear them. They trust me. I am emboldened by their trust and their stories.
So, Healthcare, it's time. It's time to ask some questions from the Crew and the Passengers.
Ask the crew --- what do WE need now? What do YOU need now? Maybe a little rest. Catch your breath. Nourish your body. Tend to your spirit, and fill up your cup. Take GOOD care of your self, first, we're here for you. Because we are taking good care of our selves, so we can take care of you.
Ask the Passengers --- what has this been like for you? Where have you stumbled? What do you see? How could it be easier, safer, better?
Ensure everyone is nursed back to health who needs it. And those who are rested and ready? Keep tending to the masses in whichever way you feel called to serve.
Now, Passengers & Crew, Leaders & Followers: grab your tools --- your hammers, mixing bowls, gait belts, books, spells, tinctures, scrubbers, maps, astrolabes, sextants, compasses --- and let's get to work.
As we rise on a new day, rested and ready, carrying these stories in our minds and hearts, we set a course towards a future we all agree is good. Filled with opportunity for all. Safety, wellbeing, joy, thriving.
For you, for me, for us, for them.
Now, off we get!
Amen
Love,
Jessie