moments > milestones

Something I learned early on in my young adult life was that no matter how amazing your job/circumstance is  -- you're prone to have hard/bad days, grow disgruntled + discontent and/or find something to be complain about (I imagine even those who dance in the parades at Disneyland have days when they have to drag their feet to work! Hard to imagine, but I'm sure it's true!) Work is hard because people are hard - and taking care of real people with real needs who have real problems (and sometimes with real, deep, serious, cray cray family situations) is no easy feat.  

In any sort of career, we often find ourselves fueled by our passions: to do good, to be the best we can be, to be excellent in all that we're doing. Although we start with good intentions - it's so easy to slip up. I've come to see that in a lot of ways, we live in a "dog eat dog" world and people try to overpower, overachieve and one-up each other in the game to get ahead: to be #1, to be recognized as the "best" or superior over the rest. When I'm not careful, I find myself in that same boat too. That's a dangerous path to slip on when you work in a profession that is responsible for caring for the well-being of others. We oft have to remind ourselves that it really isn't about the title, or the reputation or climbing up the hierarchy of success but our focus needs to always be to care for people entrusted to us in the best possible way, even at the cost of ourselves. 

I'm learning to redirect my thinking and energy to find my joy and sense of fulfillment in moments and not my milestones. What good is a great title, reputation or recognition - if people are not loved, served and cared for? I've learned that I am humanly unable to devote myself wholeheartedly to my patients when my focus is on myself in any measure. What good is man's praise to me - if in the secret and privacy of my patients' rooms, I am not fueled with love, compassion and a personal conviction to care for them as my own family?

In hospitals nationwide - there has been a tremendous push to increase patient satisfaction. We rely on surveys, numbers and statistics to determine and dictate how well we are caring for our people. I understand the necessity and importance of these things from a buisness aspect, but to be honest, it sometimes dehumanizes for me the reason why I pursued this career in the first place. Inevitably, it causes us to pay closer attention to strategy and tactics - rather than strengthening our commitment to love and care for our patients as real people. 

Me and one of my favorite patients ever // permission granted to share photo, don't report me. :)

 The most rewarding experiences for me have been when I allowed myself to see beyond the blue hospital gown. When I remember that my patients are real people with real lives and real families - it brings greater value and worth to the work that I'm doing. I love hearing their stories and getting to be a part of their inside jokes. I love being invited into their lives and - ever so naturally, inviting them into mine. (I have a family member who still tags me in photos when a fried egg is involved because I told him it's my fave. Hi Steve!) I no longer fear if they will sue for this or that, or if they will fill out a disgruntled letter or dissatisfied survey because I'm not afraid to ask them if they're unhappy. I love to hear how I could better help them feel more at home (however "home-y" a dinky hospital room could be). I rejoice with them and cry with them. We hold hands as we undergo CT scans and video swallow evals - because we are both longing and rooting for the same thing. It's no longer just about getting meds in on time, or making sure our response time is less than X minutes. The quality of our service is motivated by compassion when we genuinely love them. Every moment we spend trying to get a hold of a physician, or obtain an order, or rush a bedpan is not done because of fear or obligation, but love. 

I am so imperfect in this. 

I'm realizing the only way I am ever going to be able to do this is if my love for my patients is modeled and motivated by Christ's sacrificial, wholehearted, unconditional love for me. To remember that even if my "numbers" don't reflect it, or if the survey speaks otherwise -- that I can have a clear conscience before God that I did my best every single day "not by way of eye-service as people pleasers, but with sincerity of heart, fearing the Lord" (Colossians 3:22) and that I worked wholeheartedly "as for The Lord and not for men" (Colossians 3:23).

When I look back at my nursing career - I don't want to remember my time as a nurse by any milestones I reached in my professional life - but rather, the small and seemingly mundane moments that made the people I'm caring for feel loved, valued and cared for. I hope that this would be what I strive for and that everything I do would be a means to this end. 

// TO CELEBRATE TODAY'S MOMENTS//

•  Singing a song and dance about Coumadin that my patient and I made up and sang all day because he was so bored that his Coumadin was the "highlight of his day".
•  When my patients say "I love you, too!" 
• Seeing my stroke patient's strength improve throughout the day after spending hours exercising and doing passive range of motion 
• HUGS. My fave. Always. 
• Getting two rounds of pizza and of course eating it both times. 
• Caring for a patient who has the active influenza virus (after having been sick for a week myself!) but thankfully he was the cutest human being ever and was worth every minute in that horrible surgical mask. 
• Crying with my patient and his whole family while reading the cheerleader card I wrote for him before he left for rehab 
• Being able to meet some of the most inspiring people ever and being able to have the honor and privilege to care for them as patients.

Work is hard but God is good. 
There is so much beauty in the mundane.