Chasing Experiences

Lately I’ve been feeling sad. The weights in my life sometimes feel too heavy to hold alone and I allow them to anchor me down. It’s not something that happens often but when it does, it’s really rough. I’m human, I have ups and downs. My coping mechanism during the downs is avoidance and that only works for so long. A few days ago, I received a disappointing phone call regarding an issue I’ve struggled with for years. It’s pretty much the only thing that can make me cry these days. I felt defeated after the conversation and all I wanted was to crawl into bed and go to sleep for a few days.

Very rarely I let depression take over for a bit. I can lie on my couch for 12 hours zoning out with mindless television so I don’t have to think about the worries of the world. I planned on doing just this when I got home but I had work commitments that I needed to finish first. I have a part time (as needed) job as a hospice nurse and this day I had one after hours visit to make after my clinical day was finished. I was desperate to just make it home so I could lie on my couch and feel sorry for myself. I planned on handling the issue the next morning because I just “couldn’t deal” that day. My mental well being was on shaky ground. I wanted to make the last patient visit of the day short so I could be on my couch sooner.

I’m going to call this patient Ms. Fire, because she was definitely a ball of fire. I had only met her once before when I admitted her a couple of weeks prior. I really enjoyed her company and stayed for three hours that day. She was feisty with quick wit and I could tell I would have really liked to know her.

When I arrived for my last visit of the day in my gloomy mood, Ms. Fire was slumped over on her couch asleep with a Bipap mask covering her face because she couldn’t maintain a sustainable oxygen level without it. I instantly forgot my terrible mood and went into nurse mode. Thankfully, she woke easily to my voice and gave me a big smile under her mask. I spoke with her and her sister as I completed my physical assessment. Ms. Fire was in bad condition. Her lungs were requiring an incredibly high oxygen rate and it was the only thing keeping her alive. I knew it was only a matter of hours, maybe days before the oxygen would stop helping. She knew it too and so did her sister. I speak to all patients I care for about what it means to be on hospice. You get great nursing care and extra help in the home but it also means you have no desire to seek any aggressive treatment or receive any life saving measures. We are there to keep you comfortable and maintain your dignity in the best way possible. When I told her how I felt about her current condition and what it meant, I thought she might get emotional and possibly a bit afraid but she surprised me when she just laughed. She looked at me and said, “Oh honey, I’m not afraid of dying. I’m mad as hell they’re all going to be here having fun without me!”. She went on to tell me that she’d lived 80 wonderful years with no regrets. Ms. Fire was thankful and ready with no fear of what was coming. We talked some more and laughed together. The whole interaction made me forget my troubles. I went home and hugged my healthy son. Then I drank a glass of wine with dinner and thanked God for all the blessings in my life.

She died the next day. I was fortunate enough to witness her peaceful last breath with family surrounding her.

I let the world bring me down a few days ago. Then I was reminded that I’m only in it for a short amount of time. My thought process completely *misfired* when it made me think escaping to the comfort of my home would make anything better. The only thing I should be avoiding is my couch.

Tackle your down days without letting them tackle you. And seriously have all the fun possible because I know Ms. Fire would be even more mad if we weren’t having any fun at all.