It’s been a REALLY long time since I’ve written a blog. I’d
like to be able to say it’s because I followed in the footsteps of Liz Gilbert
and decided to travel the world in search of inner peace like in her book, “Eat
Pray Love,” but alas my truth is not so exciting. In fact, I’m not even going
to try to make up an excuse. I’ll just say, “I hope you enjoy reading my
ramblings.” To update on what I’ve been doing, I’ll just say that life is busy,
work is busy, I am busy.
I’ve decided that there comes a time in one’s professional
life when you feel like you could do just about anything and it’s a good
feeling. I think that’s where I’m at now.
Professionally I feel as though I’m at the top of my game. I’ve learned
to stop and take the time to think through situations from all angles in a way
that only maturity can dictate. Trauma? Bring it. Distract a 3-year old during
an IV start? No problem. Explain a new diagnosis I know nothing about? Bring
it. Whoop a child in a game of Skipbo and make them enjoy it? Daily. Act like I’m
three when I’m really 50? Piece of cake. Tell a child their parent is going to
die? I don’t want to, but I can do it. I know that I can deliver that message
with utmost love and compassion and help them navigate those emotions and truly
make a difference. Where does that come from? It comes from the heart.
For 25
years I’ve heard people say, “It takes a special person to do what you do.”
Doesn’t it take a special person to do any job? I can name a hundred jobs that
I could never ever do. Correction. At LEAST a hundred jobs. In my mind, I don’t
care what you do for a living as long as you do your best. One day at the
hospital, my favorite housekeeper said, “I’m just a housekeeper.” Huh? Nobody
is “just an” anything. What makes a difference is each and every one of us.
We’re all part of a team, whether it’s in a restaurant, a department store, a
bank, a hotel, manual labor, mental labor, healthcare…it doesn’t matter. We all
work together to make things happen, it’s what we do.
Where I’m extremely blessed, is that I happen to love my
work. If I didn’t have bills to pay and a son to support, heck, I’d do it for
free. Where else could I work with the most amazing little creatures (and big
ones) that God created and learn from them each and every day?? Where else
would I be invited into the lives of families in some of the most difficult
times in their lives, and get to have them make a bigger impact on me than I could ever possibly have on them?
Families who come from all over the country (and sometimes the world) to have
life-saving transplants to give their children the best possible chance at
life. Families who often have to pack up and move away from their own families,
husbands, children, and support systems so that their children can have a
better chance at life. Families whose children have been dealt a life-threatening
diagnosis of some horrible disease called cancer, and watch them come out
swingin’…and usually win.
I’ll be completely honest, sometimes I struggle with
professional boundaries. Now, I don’t have kids over to my house for Christmas
dinner or anything crazy like that, but I don’t think that things are always
black and white. It isn't always about doing what you can for them in an 8-hour workday. Sometimes it goes beyond. I was raised to be a good Christian and to live my life in the
likeness of Christ, so sometimes what I believe is being a good Christian,
would be considered to be “crossing boundaries” by others. In my profession
professional boundaries is a really hot topic, so I usually speak my mind, but sometimes I just “take the fifth.”
Take for example the 15-year old girl who had been diagnosed
with cancer at the age of 12 and had been in remission for quite a long time
before having a totally different cancer appear a couple of years later. This
teen had been quite a “stinker” at times, had a lot of spunk, and we’d
developed a really close relationship. When her cancer reoccurred, it was relentless.
Eventually she went on hospice, but I visited her (along with her nurse case manager)
a number of times in her home. Within my department, once a child is on hospice
and goes home, we just get updates on their condition and that's all we're supposed to do. Visiting their home is
considered “crossing boundaries,” so I’m pretty sure my visits were frowned
upon. “If you don’t do it for every child, you shouldn’t do it for just one.”
My reply to that is, “Well, not everyone needs
the same thing.” If a child has a need and I can help, I’m going to be there…it’s what God
would want me to do. How could I turn my back on them then? I’m not saying that
we turn our back on the kids that we don’t go visit when they’ve been
discharged on hospice…I’m not saying at all. I’m saying that this particular
child and family requested visits and had some issues they just needed some guidance on and I'm thankful I had the opportunity to help. Could I have said I wasn’t allowed to come
visit? Yes I could have. I chose not to. I know that the visits made a big
difference to her. She talked with me about things regarding her condition that she hadn’t talked with her
family about. How could I ever deny anyone that opportunity? However, I see it
from both sides of the fence. I see a lot
of people burn out in my field. So what’s the secret? I don’t have the
answer. The best that I can come up with is…balance.
Feel what families feel, but also know that there’s only so much that you can
do…and then you do it. Laugh with them, cry with them, and love them. Do your best,
but don’t lose yourself. Pray. Love those around you. Appreciate what you have.
I remember in college I was always told, “Don’t get too
attached, sometimes kids die.” Yep, they do. But the day that I don’t love
those kids is the day that I will leave my job. I know if it were my child
fighting for their life, I’d want people taking care of them that loved them.
Sometimes I get to watch as kids who are absolutely devastated by their
diagnosis and afraid to go out in public without a wig or a hat, suddenly wear
their bald head like a medal of honor, “Look at me, I’m kicking cancer’s butt.”
How can that not be a privilege? It is a privilege and an honor to walk
alongside these children and families and maybe get to help them understand a little
better. Maybe cope a little better. Maybe laugh a little more often. Sometimes
I even cry with them. Maybe I get to help them find courage they didn’t know
they had…sometimes we just have to hand them the right tools. Maybe I’m not a
child life specialist…maybe I’m a gardener…just planting a few seeds.
