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Latest Voices
“You Need to Stop Drinking”
The Third Wheel
I am trying to move the language from forever to this moment, in the aiport departure lounge. To loosen up on declaring “You’re always” and “You’re never” and instead say “Right now you are …”
I might think I know what’s coming, but I have no idea exactly what it will look like and when it might happen. For now, the “what ifs” are not dormant, but also not dominant. Regardless, an illness becomes an uninvited third person in a two-person marriage.
Protea caffra
Beverly called the ambulance because she couldn’t walk anymore. Her feet were edematous after ten days of radiation treatment for metastatic lung cancer, and her heart was slowly overfilling with fluid, backlogging into her body. She was stoically resigned to her pain and newfound infirmity, but she kept a wry sense of humor, cracking jokes about being waited upon and the “magic carpet ride” sling we lifted her onto.
During transport to the hospital, Beverly told me she grew protea: pale red, pink and cream-colored flowers native to South Africa. Her family sells them at local farmer’s markets in bouquets.
Breaking a Frame of Reference
When you see one on the subway, get off. When one is coming your way on the sidewalk, cross the street. Despite being a progressive-minded student studying drug policy, this was my frame of mind about drug users outside the research lab. This frame changed after my time at Street Health.
Daily Constitutional
Rounds at the cancer institute where I’m a nurse practitioner start at 8:00 am: bellies are pressed, labs frowned at, lungs auscultated, pain discussed. Teams of physicians, nurse practitioners, residents, interns and students roam the halls–teaching, conversing, lecturing, scratching their heads.
But one of my favorite parts of the day starts at 10:00 am. That’s when the physical therapists start arriving and the patients start their daily exercise–walking the halls. Some measure their effort in steps, some in laps, some in miles.
Learning to Let Go
The Devotion of a New Nurse
I can tell you stories about my day, about the mundane miracles that transpire in the time-warped world of this hospital birthing center, but words will hardly convey what it is like–for me–to be a new labor and delivery nurse. Every time I meet a patient and ask them about themselves, I am reminded that I am only hearing bits of the whole story of their life, that I will never really know what life is like for anyone else, and that no one will know (or needs to know) what it is like for me. This seems lonely at
Worrier to Warrior
I am a worrier. I worry about real and imaginary things, about significant issues and minor ones. My goal for 2020 is to stop being a worrier and instead become a warrior.
I want to embrace each day with courage, not with angst. Perhaps if I do, I will no longer suffer from 24/7 headaches that challenge my ability to concentrate for any extended period of time. Maybe I will stop losing myself in reruns of Law and Order: SVU and instead engage in real life adventures–solo or with friends–at a museum, theater, or restaurant.
An Editor’s Invitation: Turning Over a New Leaf
Which leaf would you choose right now, in 2020, and which have you chosen in the past?
For now, I would choose the leaf that has me feeling bad whenever I run late seeing patients–which is always–because I haven’t figured out how to keep a visit within the 20-minute slot that’s been allotted.
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