Magic wand

Most people I encounter speak of this "magic wand". They make reference to it as thought it existed at one time in their lifetime. This wand is said to be "magic" because upon waiving it you can fix or wash away someone else's problems or pain. I long for the idea of a "magic wand". If it existed I would have searched the world high and low to spare the parents of my patients the pain and suffering they have endured, to bring Grace and Wyatt back, and to help anyone who needed help. Last week I lost another person I was very close to. My beautiful patient zoey died peacefully at home with her parents and siblings by her side. She fought for two long years. She endured countless surgical procedures, port accesses, infections, fevers, nausea and vomiting. She lost all her hair and much of her weight. She lost out on her adolescence. She didn't get to get married, to attend prom, or to kiss a boy. She was cheated. As I sobbed for her and my own babies, my heart throbbed with an unimaginable pain. The pain was not only for me in my sadness, it reached much farther than that. The pain ripped from my body and carried into the bodies of her family. I wept because for the first time in my young innocent life I knew exactly what her parents felt. I knew the pain that would come to them. The heartbreak as days passed, holidays came and left, seasons changed and yet their hearts would still be broken. I so badly wished to protect them from that pain. That pain that I felt every day since you passed. The pain that now loomed over my body like a heavy dark cloud. The pain that held my heart like a snake squeezes its prey. The pain that wouldn't leave no matter what was said or done. Pain that felt lighter one moment and then came crashing down on my brittle frame the very next. For the first time I had words to share. Words that were honest and accurate. Of course when people say sorry it's nice, but other than that your walking a fine line with words. Nothing helps, nothing comforts, there is no cure. I spoke at the funeral. As I walked to the podium I thought I would pass out. I was too weak to do this. My loss to fresh, my heart too weak, my voice to fragile. I couldn't write my words out. I stood in front of the church trembling, my voice quivering, the blood draining from my face and pooling at my feet. Don't be a fool, don't say something hurtful or stupid, be honest. As I peered out at the church each seat was filled, pictures lined the aisles and walls. Her family sat two short feet in front of me. If I reached forward I could touch them. I was nervous! My mouth opened and I introduced myself. My words were as follows:

Hello, my name is Andrea. I met Zoey as a nurse at CHOC. I was zoeys first nurse and we immediately took to one another. Her smile and spirit were infectious. Although she had a poor prognosis she never gave up. She always told me she was strong and she really was. She made me laugh always. I loved watching her rip nurses heads off. She knew who she liked and who she didn't and she told you! One fond memory I have with zoey was one where I was changing her port needles. I remember gathering my supplies and giggling. Zoeys was the hardest port on the floor and I took pride at being the best at accessing it. She requested me always and if I was off she would wait. It made me smile how stubborn she was, and how good I was. I walked in with my supplies and zoey said to me, " you get one shot! Then your done!". I laughed. A port is a medical device that is inserted into the chest. It's tucked into a pocket and surrounded by skin. You can't see it under the skin, but with your fingers you can feel it. We use large 1" needles to puncture through the skin into just the right spot. This is hard since you are 

not able to visually see where you need to go. You go with blind faith. I then thanked her parents for raising such a loving beautiful daughter. I promised that she would never me forgotten. I encouraged them to speak about her, to say her name and share memories of her. To create traditions and to journal if they wanted. I told them that fighting was normal, and that burying a baby was not. To hold tight to one another during this time. I told them to yell, to cry and laugh even. I told them they would live through this, but that their lives would never be normal again. Their hearts would always ache. They would see a child at 19 years old and wonder what zoey would look like, what college she would attend. Before I left the podium I glanced around the full room. I said, "look around you, look how much support and love this family has. I beg you to stay, in two months when the dust has settled, in six, in a year. Reach out and lift this family up, because that's when they will truly need your support. After the shock of zoeys death dissipates and reality sets in, be there." I then walked down and hugged zoeys mom, dad, and siblings. Her parents thanked me for speaking, for being a part of her life inside the hospital. I thanked ten for allowing me to play a role in her life and her care. They made my job worthwhile. They make me happy I do what I do. The outcomes are not always ones we hope for or want, but these patents still live, they remember, they support each other. 

As I analyzed myself I felt weak. Like a leaf fallen from the trees in fall. Brittle, thin and ready to crack in a minute. Grace and Wyatt's deaths can't destroy me. I want to be a good person, I want to life others up an offer love and support. I want to touch lives and make changes no matter how big or small. 

Today I felt lighter. Almost the tip of happiness coursed through my veins. I had fresh hope, longing and some satisfaction. I played fetch with Harvey and he played hide and go seek with me. I love when he plays that game! I painted!! I cooked dinner! I did a lot. I did have some hard minutes today, but I tried my hardest not to let them drag me down. I tried to laugh and look towards tonight. To not dwell on tomorrow, or next week, to focus on now. My happiness may have only been momentary, but it was here and that gave me the spark I needed to start a small fire. Now to add fuel to that fire.....

Side note: today as I was leaving my doctors office I received a text from a friend, acquaintance rather. She brought me lunch while I was on bed rest, she text me encouraging words, and she sent me cards. She is a beautiful woman inside and out. She text me to let me know that she has kept me, Grace, Wyatt and Matt close at heart and mind. She then told me that she could connect with me on the same level and she was hurting, and looking for a friend to lean on. Today I surprised myself. I got to be the person who offered to bring lunch after a loss. I got to offer my words and presence as a support. I had the strength to help not only myself, but a friend. Today I was strong.