So I am feeling compelled today to write about an issue that has been laying heavily on my heart for the last couple of days. I happen to be home sick with Paloma, so as she naps I am taking full advantage of catching up on my blog (along with disinfecting sheets, bathtub, rugs, etc. A bit of a diarrhea disaster around our house).
Many of you may know that I struggle to balance two jobs - one as a mom and one as a nurse. I am blessed to have a flexible career that allows me to do this with some ease. It is not always easy - as is the case today. But nonetheless, I wouldn't have it any other way.
This weekend I was on both Sat. and Sun. I was lucky to be taking care of a little boy whom I bonded with almost immediately. His family was very nice and I found it a great joy to be taking care of this delightful family during what was probably not a delightful time for them. When I arrived to work on Sat. morning, I didn't think the task ahead of me would be all that difficult. I simply had to "fix" the child and send him home within the next day or so. As each hour passed, the job of "fixing" this child became more and more difficult. I was finding that I was not indeed "fixing" him but rather what seemed to be "breaking" him. I wanted so badly to see this little boy recover from what was supposed to be a minor surgery and head off with his family to enjoy the warm sunshine and light breeze. He told me of his dogs and of his brothers and the room he was so happy to be going home to. By the time I left work on Sat. my hopes were that I would get the pleasure of releasing this little boy home on Sun. since I didn't quite get the job done on Sat.
As I walked on the floor Sun. things started spiraling downhill. This sweet little boy seemed to be getting worse and not better. As each hour passed, he increasingly became more uncomfortable and more distraught. Parents were becoming increasingly upset as their hopes of taking their son home were dwindling. My role as their nurse was to "fix their child" right? I was becoming more and more frustrated because that day was not turning out how it was supposed to. But isn't that how life goes? It is a constant up and down roller coaster ride of events that daily reminds us that if we are not gripping on to hand of Christ, we will be thrown for a loop and land smack on our face. Well, I landed smack on my face on Sun. I was defeated! I was saddened that as I walked off the floor I left two very sweet people in the waiting crying and upset over the fact that their child was laying in his hospital bed for the 6th day in a row looking worse than when he originally arrived. I tried so hard that day to give drugs, run tests, fluff pillows, help with walks, start IV's, etc. when really I should have hit my knees and simply said a prayer for that little boy.
As a woman, my natural desire is to fix. I want to fix my daughters boo boo, I want to fix my husband dinner (not always), I want to fix my little girls hurt feelings, I want to fix my sick patients. I realized I can't. I can't really fix anything. I can assist and mend what I can do here on earth, but it is my Heavenly Father who can really fix it all. Why after all these years did it take this long, rambly blog post to remind me of this when I get subtle hints each and every day?