coffeeandthensome

[coffeeandthensome]

Awareness

Hi! This is not my original “blog”. I don’t religiously blog for a living, I don’t even really blog. I just post (sometimes, admittedly trying to be unique and artsy, but that is not the point fro this one). Is that the same thing? 

Anyhow, I’ve just finished a cup of strong coffee and it seems to be kicking in. I should be sleeping, though, but I could not resist this smell of it. 

My mind is so alive right now and I know when the crash kicks in, I’ll be snoozing under the sheets. Until then, here it is. 

I’ve been too stressed lately and I believe that I might also be the cause of stress for another. Here is why:

Last Sunday, just like any other working day for me, I went to work. I was all conditioned for the day, dripping wet hair, coffee in my veins, and a smile on my face. I love my job. I really do! 

I must say, after 3 years of working there, even under stress, me and my colleagues glide like water through the day. With or without a nurse manager. Now, before I tell this story, I am very much aware of the nitty-gritty of privacy and confidentiality. So I won’t mention names, nor my workplace, nor my own name. This is based mainly on the experience of an individual, regardless of any specifics, and how it’s dealt.

It’s always busy around in the morning at our department, it’s where most of the work gets done. I am not exaggerating when I say that routine morning checks make my stomach churn. That is because in the few years of working where I’m working, I’ve at least found 5 lifeless people (that’s nothing compared to the medics, or the ER nurses). Not all at the same time of course.

I am aware that it’s part of the job, but that fleeting moment where you realize that someone has already gone is always something that I will not forget. The few seconds between processing that horrid thought and deciding to compose yourself so you can do what needs to be done feels like forever. And I can really say this: my hatest thing in the world, as of this moment, is being left alone in a room with a dead person. Even if it’s just for a minute or two.

The thing with kind of job is, this is not the ER. Nobody rushes and sweeps in and out in a flash. You have time. Everything runs at a normal pace, so you have the time to see all the emotions from families and other people. 

I don’t know if it’s a good thing, but I try to tell myself that I’ve already adjust to situations like those. In all honesty, though, I think I have not yet because it’s always something new all the time. My rational self is very good at handling it, following every protocol that needs to be done, calling the right people, maintaining privacy, processing the whole situation, and getting on with my day. 

 I am not afraid of it, I know that in my profession I will encounter many things like these, even worse.  BUT. My stomach still  churns, I still dream about it. When I come home and I am not doing anything, my image of that person, who you know... who you just spoke to days ago, is gone and that you were the first one to find out, and that you have to be the bearer of bad news to the family. 

That was only an intro though, because my actual story is just about to start. 

As I’ve said, it was a typical working weekend. That’s what I thought until I enter the room of this certain person only to find that he/she’s passed away. What makes it different from all other experiences that we’ve had at work is that he/she deliberately did it. I hate to say that “s” word but that’s what it is.

Suffocation. I haven’t really heard or read of a situation where one tries to take their life with a plastic bag. It must be slow torment, but I don’t even want to get my imagination started on how the whole process went about.

Fortunately, during that day, I was kept busy. The ball just kept rolling, one emergency after another until I finally went off. I had to go straight to my part time job and I fell asleep on the way. After I had done my part time job, I went straight to a family party and came home with my husband around 10 PM. 

I took a bath and washed off all of the toxicity from that day, and went to bed. We woke up at 5 am to go to work, and life goes on. The next few days had been busy but as soon as I had my day off, the moment my mind was idle and thinking about nothing, the image of that situation had plagued my thoughts again. The image of that note we had found saying that it was his/her’s decision and no one else, the card he/she left for the family.

How could one, even at the end of their lifetime, think of doing such thing? More so, doing it with gratitude. 

Will they find peace in the afterlife? 

How? Why? Other people struggle to live by the day, or even by the minute, why would you do that? It was a very biased thing to say, though.

I’ve realized how lonely old people were and how many people would often say “I would rather not live long than live to be a hundred while feeling that  I’m losing my self”. With losing one’s self, they would mean losing their ability to see, hear, walk, talk, or think. Feeling a tremendous amount of pain constantly, or outliving their children. 

Back home, children live with their parents until the end of their journey in this world but here, in this foreign place, children leave their home at the age of 18. They thrive in the real world, making names for themselves, having their own families. When they grow old, their children live separate lives and they are left alone, with all the money they saved for old age. Most of them have more than enough to last them through their remaining days, but just spend their hours siting in their very modern, home-y suite, probably sitting by the phone waiting for their families to call and check on them. 

They call. That’s what most families do. They call at least once of twice a week to check on their parents. Some of them make it a point to spend a few hours every week to take their old folks shopping or for an appointment, but after that, it’s back to sitting on the couch for most of them. Some, though, don’t even have the time to come when the old people get sick, they;d asked to be informed if things get worse or better, and that’s about it.

You cannot blame them, because the working world is like an ocean, the waves don’t stop crashing. Work is constant. Work is necessary, whether we like it or not. 

That is why I’ve come to realize, that for these people, putting their places in retirement communities is the best thing, because they are not always at home anyway and in worse situations, nobody will be there to help out. Safety and strain on the family. That is always the main reason. Sadly, because of that, emotional and mental health is compromised. People get depressed. Very depressed. They end up making decisions to end their misery because it goes on and on and on everyday. 

Did I stray quite far? I was just trying to get a view of the bigger picture in writing. Anyway, to sum it all up, that was the first time I’ve ever encountered someone taking their life. I’ts one thing to read about it or watch it on television, and it’s another thing to actually be the one to find them. It was a first, and it’s taking a toll on me. 

I am a nurse and I know there will be worse cases,  but all of the firsts in my life make a really fine imprint and this one is something I will not forget.

I will get over it soon, but it will only be tucked at the back of my thoughts. The gravity of it will eventually lighten, but for now, I’ll just write it out to make this process of getting over it faster.