Pick Up the Pieces
The Bomb Squad
“Rock on ancient queen,
follow those who pale in your shadow….
now tell me is it over now,
do you know how
to pick up the pieces and go home…”
Stevie Nicks sings these lyrics in the Fleetwood Mac hit, Gold Dust Woman, speculatively speaking of cocaine use, breakup with lovers and dealing with fame and fortune. This interpretation doesn’t resonate with me, but the phrase does speak to me in other ways. Rock on ancient queen, or the 33 year veteran as it applies to me. There are many who pale in my experience but shine in their own light of skill and knowledge and it’s I who pales in their shadow. These nurses are astute, perceptive, clever, dexterous, quick-witted and funny as hell. They move from room to room, shifting gears, changing emotion to suit the need, and adapting their work flow to accommodate the unexpected always and all ways. Give them a mountain and they climb it, looking outward to the next challenge. Add a task to the “must-do” list and, “awrighty then, I can do that”. Now and then, an I is missing its dot or a T doesn’t get crossed, but the best that can be done, has been done, and just in time for another new “must-do”. Nurses catch the brunt of the crossfire of performance-based reimbursement shoot outs. Hospitals depend on them to meet all of the patient care standards and onerous documentation requirements necessary to demonstrate compliance. This frenetic busy-ness happens in the midst of patient and “with-em” requests (demands) for the extraneous…remote control, blankets (“no, I want the warm one”), popsicles, water (“don’t you have bottled?”) and a sandwich (“I haven’t eaten all day”). Yes, we interrupt this emergency for snack time.
And do I know how to pick up the pieces and go home? Yes, we all do. In our own way, we do. Some days we leave the madness with happy hearts knowing that a heart still beats because of us…a brain will continue its autonomic and cognitive functions because we got a patient to the CT table in 6 minutes flat, a child’s status asthmaticus was alleviated by the quick work of the ER crew and respiratory therapist. Pain was alleviated, breathing restored, bleeding controlled, things that were on the outside put back on the inside, things that are toxic brought back to the outside, and things that didn’t belong in the body at all (some with batteries) are removed to be marveled at in silence. Other days our hearts are heavy, our feet cry out for a skilled massage and our minds seek solace in quiet nothingness
Sometimes we go home without picking up all of our pieces; we go home without the energy to read a bedtime story, without the ability to fully sympathize with a spouse over their bad day. Bad day…such a personal and individual phrase. “I just don’t have anything left” one nurse apologetically cautioned her husband from behind a closed bathroom door; she’d given all she had. And literally, she had nothing more to give; physically, emotionally, and mentally. She was barren.
Sometimes snuggling our babies or folding ourselves into a loved ones arms are the solace needed to prepare us for another 12 hour shift tomorrow. Rock on, ancient queen….