Love That Lasts

Inspiring stories seem few and far between sometimes.  Especially in the dark landscape of the ER.   The other day, however, I encountered two couples on the same day that seriously amazed me.

I was sitting at the front desk on one of my days doing 'triage' when we saw an old man trying to help his wife out of the car into a wheelchair. We went out to assist him, but he insisted that he did this all the time. This time however, the poor man almost fell and almost dropped his wife, who was bigger than him.  We helped them, but I could tell he was embarrassed.  Despite being in his 80s, he was a well built older gentleman, and nothing in his stature bespoke frailty.  As I checked them into a room, I learned that they had been married for 50 years, and for 10 of the last 50 his wife had been afflicted with Alzheimer's so severe that she could not walk or speak. And he had been her sole caregiver this entire time.  He was incredibly tender with her and wanted to help us any time we moved her or assisted her.

Later on I encountered an extremely unpleasant alcoholic.  Per his wife he would go on drinking binges that would last days and never eat a bite of food. When he was finally too sick to carry on this way, she would coax him to the hospital.  His wife talked and had a demeanor that implied this had been their ritual for a very long time now.  After a couple of frustrating interactions with this man, who as I said, was quite unpleasant, I remarked to his wife that she had the patience of a saint to put up with him for so long.  She looked at her husband and her demeanor softened. She told me that he was the nicest man in the world when he wasn't drinking, and in a tone that spoke only of true compassion told me that he suffered a lot from PTSD from his days in war.

I've heard it said that when someone loves another so unyieldingly it says much more about the person who loves than it does about the person loved.  These people weren't just overcome with a powerful force of love that happened to stay with them through the decades.  Their loved one wasn't daily inspiring this love by their own virtue.  These spouses developed patience.  They worked to see good through the bad.  They were faithful and steadfast when many would have run.  We all want the kind of love that stands the test of time and doesn't yield to life's storms.  But love like that is built on the foundation of character, not emotion alone. And so few of us have the patience to build that kind of character, and so never experience that kind of love. The kind of love that will tenderly care for someone you've committed to - even when they can barely give it back.

Lies We Tell Ourselves

 

I've come to the opinion that us humans are marvelously adept at telling ourselves lies.  Maybe not always complete falsities, but certainly an astounding amount of half truths.  I think this is because we desire to be and to appear much more virtuous (or important) than we actually are.  So we ascribe to ourselves lofty motives when really baser ones are in play.  We justify ourselves with empathizable internal stories for actions we know are wrong - or questionable at best . And no, I'm not sure if empathizable is a word.

Sometimes I notice this on reality tv shows.  How is it that no one in singing competitions ever says they want to be the next big thing because they love the way being center stage in front of a throng of adoring fans makes them feel?  Almost everyone seems to have a humble, selfless motive. "I'm doing this for my kids - to teach them to follow their dreams." "I'm doing this for my sick sister in law." "I'm doing this for my family, so we don't have to struggle anymore." "I want to share the gift of music, to uplift the people of the world!"  Just once I want to hear someone say, "Being on stage and captivating an audience with my talent makes me feel important, and I really like that feeling." Now I can't judge people's real motives. But I do  have a hard time believing that those things are the primary reason most people want to be an "American Idol".   

I also remember an interview on Dr. Phil years ago with a couple that was having an affair that both of their families (spouses and children) were fully aware of.  The woman talked at length about how she felt guilty, but kept hoping that somehow it was okay because they loved each other so much. She also emphatically stated that her children were her top priority and that their good was her chief desire. Your young children know you are cheating on their dad, but their good and stability is your highest goal?  Lies. But she did not want to accept the image of herself as someone who would sacrifice the emotional health of her children for an affair, so she told herself a different story.

But mostly - I catch it in myself.  The one person whose motives I am in fact privy to.  I like to feel like a good person- someone who is kind, interesting, strong, and virtuous. (Feel free to roll your eyes now).  When I do things or think things or act in ways that challenge this perception of myself, I find myself trying to spin the story in my mind in a way that makes me come out on top.  That perhaps incriminates the other person in the scenario more than myself. It's shameful to admit. But it's true.

I think this is one of the reasons the gospel doesn't make sense to us sometimes.  Because the first thing you have to admit is that you're a sinner.  And many of us have been telling ourselves untrue stories about ourselves for so long and believing the ones advertisers and pop culture tell us about ourselves, that we have a hard time believing the true story - that we're lost and broken. And we need a Savior.

When Fear Looks Like Anger

 Many of us are drawn to nursing because we like the idea of helping people - and I think most of us kind of assumed that we would be treated and responded to as helpers.  But often times we are responded to as the perpetrators. The ones responsible for pain and suffering, instead of the ones working tirelessly to try and relieve it.  That is one aspect of healthcare I was certainly not prepared for.

It is so hard not to take people's reactions at face value.  And especially hard not to react emotionally to them ourselves.  This is a lesson I am continually re exposed to at work, because  patients and family members can often be short and rude and even threatening.  The other day a co worker of mine asked me to start an IV on someone. After introducing myself and telling him what I was there for the man gave me a very serious stare, arched an eyebrow and stated "Better get that thing the first time or I'll be sticking needles in your arm." To which I replied (tartly) "You know it really doesn't help to threaten the nursing staff" and went about my task in indignant silence.

When I am inside these situations I get angry. I do not like being treated like the bad guy! I don't like people looking at me as though they need to protect themselves or their loved ones from me. I'm there to help them, darn it! However, when I am not in the situation, when I'm trying to place myself in someone else's skin, I start to understand. Slowly I begin to remember that it really doesn't have anything to do with me.  Often when people are afraid and helpless (especially men) they try and regain that sense of control over their environment. They channel their fear into aggression because it feels more secure than the fear. The man who has watched his elderly wife undergo countless painful medical prodecures and feels unable to come to her rescue channels that insecurity into pressure on the medical staff.  The parent feeling helpless to stop their child from experiencing pain or discomfort does the same.

I really hope that someday I'll be able to internalize this fact.  To stop feeling defensive and angry because people aren't responding to me the way I feel they should.  To see the fear behind the anger and respond with grace and compassion.