Wow. What a crappy week. Sometimes we just all have 'em, but jeez...this one was really rough. I'll take out of the equation the fact that my son is gone for 10 days with his dad on vacation which has certainly been an experience for me because I've never been away from him for that long. However, my crappy week was really based on the death of two of my patients, one who was 14 and one who was only four. Both equally tragic in their own right, but putting them in the same week just seemed a bit excessive to me, Lord...with all due respect. And then there was the 6 year old who is so horribly ill that when I went to visit, he just didn't even look human. What the heck is that all about?
If you work in health care, you know that this is just the way it goes sometimes...comes with the territory. However, it doesn't mean you ever get used to it. I mean, can you ever really get used to it? I don't think so....you just do the best you can and try to deal with it as it comes; rely on your coworkers for support, pray more, give your children more hugs.
Well...this week was exceptionally rough. I've always looked forward to when my little four year old friend would come in for chemo, blood, platelets, dressing changes...we'll call her "Princess." Princess would come in a couple times a week, unless it was a chemo week and then it would be four days in a row. We'd formed a pretty special little bond. The crazy thing about Princess was, she didn't know that if you are dying, you are supposed look and act sick. The fact that she was unaware of how she was supposed to look, actually just made it harder for everyone...family and staff included. We just couldn't understand how she could be so sick, and act so...not sick.
I was already feeling extremely saddened over the death of our 14 year old who died early Monday morning when Princess came in that same morning for platelets....and she was in rare form....so...much...fun! Although I was sad inside, she brought smiles to my face and sunshine to my heart like any other day. She was really, really, REALLY good at that. She had just the kind of beauty (inside and out) that made everything around her magical. After she left that day, her case manager told me that she had an exorbitant amount of blasts (leukemia cells) in her blood...which essentially equated to...she's definitely going to start feeling sick pretty soon.
The next morning she came in with severe leg pain... came in writhing in pain. This wasn't an easy thing for any of us to see our little Princess in so much pain, especially when she seemed just fine less than 24 hours earlier. Unfortunately this whole scenario played out again, the very next day. We all have those kids who just melt our hearts...and to say that Princess melted my heart, is probably the understatement of the year. When she left that very last day (Wednesday), I knew I'd never see her again. At this point, I just needed to get out and go for a walk...right away. I called my friend, and walking buddy (I'll call her Kay), to see if she could go...right then and there....for a walk. Kay is an inpatient child life specialist, who had also been having a really crappy time with lots of tragedy in her teen population. We used our walks, not only as a way to get exercise, but we often tried to tackle work issues or occasionally tried to solve world peace. Thankfully, she was able to go with me right then, which was a blessing. We both just needed to go outside of the hospital walls and walk off our sadness/anger/frustration.
So our walk consisted of exactly what it needed to consist of...yelling, crying and questioning. "Why, God, does this have to be so hard??!?!!" "How is this fair?!!" We tried to console each other with words that just really can't make any sense about why kids have to die, because there just aren't any good reasons or words for that. So we walked, we cried, we yelled, we questioned, and then we cried some more. We talked about "signs"...and how we've each asked God for signs about different things in our lives. And then we talked about how we've struggled to figure out if what we were seeing really was a sign...or just our overactive imaginations. I was telling her that it always seems that just when I start to question if this is what I'm supposed to be doing with my life, inevitably, I get a call from a patient...just wanting to say "Hi", or to let me know that they're in the building for a checkup and can I come visit. I told Kay, that those always seem to be my signs from God. When I question, He delivers an answer to me in the form of a patient whose life I've touched...or probably more accurately, who has touched MY life. And honestly, He's usually very prompt. :-)
At this point in our conversation I said, "I don't know. Maybe I'm supposed to do something bigger? Maybe it's time for me to move on? Maybe child life isn't what I'm supposed to be doing anymore, it's just too hard. Is this what I'm supposed to be doing?!" No sooner had those words crossed my lips, the most beautiful swallowtail butterfly crossed our paths. Not only did it cross our path, it dang near hit me in the face! Literally....I felt it fly past my nose. We both stopped dead in our tracks and looked at each other in awe. Kay said, "Wow." I said, "I guess that's our answer." I can't say that before that day, I'd ever seen a swallowtail butterfly in Nebraska? I see lots of those common yellow and white ones and lots of monarchs, but swallowtail? Nope. Sadly, Princess died that very next morning.
We've talked about this since it happened. What were the odds that Kay could go for a walk with me at that exact time, that we would take that exact path, that the butterfly would fly by me at that exact moment in time? Coincidence? I don't think so.
Always be looking for your butterflies.
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